#maplestory x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

Text

games, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You don't have a crush on Min Yoongi. You two are just fucking. Yup. You ignore him for two weeks because of Pokémon. Sorry. Twelve days. He's mad about it (and drunk?). Oh, shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; OT6 are nosy so now it's somehow crack???? this always happens idk how; friends-with-benefits; soulmate vibes(?); ft my obsession Pokemon Scarlet / Violet; feels + smut (fem reader, penetrative sex, scratching, m-receiving oral, mutual masturbation, choking); non-idol!AU; switches between your POV and Yoongi's POV

“Yoongi?”

Wow, that was loud and unexpected. Knocked you right out of your very pleasant dream of stuffing your face at a buffet with thick, juicy slices of prime rib, complete with flakes of premium sea salt.

“YOONGI?!”

You could still almost taste it, but, like all dreams, the savory delight slipped away from you rapidly as you groggily blinked and realized you were resembling a croissant folded into this couch.

“You have a crush on Min Yoongi of all people?!”

Similar to the flaky buttery pastry, you had no idea what the fuck was going on. Unlike the product of a baker’s pride, sentient life required you to reorient yourself into humanity, hazily taking note of the MapleStory mushroom-printed blanket draped over you and your empty hands. Your hands had been holding your phone before you passed out. You were obsessed with mobile puzzle games recently. It was nice to have games on the go to occupy yourself instead of, bleh, socializing. It was awesome. When you figured them out too easily though, they made you sleepy.

Anyway, where the hell was your phone?

“Really?! Yoongi-hyung? Oh my gosh, he texted a human being all in his own? Wow!”

That kind of excitement could only be the voice of…

“Come on, guys, hyung’s been better about such things recently. He’s surprisingly sentimental, you know.”

And that sensible voice was none other than…

Someone snorted.

That was Kim Seokjin.

You rubbed your eyes to see a familiar man holding your very expensive Samsung smartphone with your customized Rotom phone case, poking at the screen as if he was his own.

“What kind of illegal activity are you doing over there?” you hummed as you sat up, knowing full well he did not possess access due to the fingerprint scanner. One time you snuck up on him as he tried to snoop on your phone. He had flung it, so this time you calmly stayed on the sofa as your longtime friend on the armchair jumped, thoroughly scaring himself and the lean, tan drink-of-sunshine standing behind him.

“You’re awake!” Seokjin blurted. Tall, gangly if you squinted, absolutely handsome, somehow always dancing on the edge of endearing caretaker and walking disaster, Kim Seokjin threw himself out of the plushy white armchair and shoved your phone into your face accusingly as if you were the one responsible of wrongdoing. His chestnut-brown poofy hair bounced as he relentlessly poked you in the head. “You’re texting Min Yoongi! Is that the one you have a crush on?!”

“Er, technically all hyung asked was when the group was meeting up…” Jung Hoseok squeaked, radiating apologies while Seokjin continued poking you in the head with his free hand. “I tried to tell him not to touch your phone.”

“I’m sure you did,” you replied. “I’m also sure he didn’t listen.”

“Hey. Answer me.”

“Hyung…” The concerned, deep voice was coming from the barstools in the kitchen behind you, in the don’t-annoy-her-that’s-rude-but-also-it's-not-my-place-to-scold-since-I’m-younger tone. Kim Namjoon, who was probably reading a book and drinking tea at the counter. He must have been banished there. The last time he had done the same activities in the living room, he had spilled tea all over Seokjin’s white rug. That had earned him a good yelling.

You glanced at Hoseok’s rueful expression and half-smiled, waving your hand to indicate you weren’t that bothered.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me.”

Kim Seokjin believed he needed to know such information about you because he had been your friend since your accountant mother started dragging you to house calls to a very specific home (mansion) in hopes of child you falling in love with the dashingly handsome son of one of her clients (she told his parents that it was because she couldn’t afford daycare, but even child you knew better). Instead, Seokjin and you became inseparable hopelessly addicted gaming fanatics that could not imagine each other naked without puking.

You did end up becoming inseparable. Just not in the way your mother wanted.

Oops.

“I don’t have a crush on Min Yoongi.”

“Oh yeah?” He said it in a high-pitched, disbelieving tone. You swatted his hand and snatched your phone from him, peering at the message preview. “Why is he texting you then, huh? HUH?”

Your phone vibrated.

Sorry to bother you. I would have texted Seokjin-hyung, but he’s annoying.

“He says you’re annoying.”

“Ex-cuse ME?”

“Here’s the proof.”

“EXCUSE HIM?!”

“What.”

“Let me in. It’s cold out here.”

“What are you doing here?” Kim Taehyung sputtered, obediently opening his apartment door to the slightly shorter, much more imposing figure of Min Yoongi. His long black hair was wild and windblown, puffy black parka zipped all the way up, hood out but useless at the moment. Light denim jeans and black boots crusted with snow. Nothing but his serious, intense demeanor made him imposing. Yoongi carefully kicked off the white ice before stepping in, slowly raising an eyebrow at Taehyung’s askew brown locks and rumpled gray sweat set.

“You’re not leaving like that are you?”

Taehyung frowned. “I’m not, duh. Jimin’s taking ages to use the bathroom. I think he fell in the toilet.”

“Hey! I heard that! Who’s out there?”

“You won’t believe it,” Taehyung shouted back to the disembodied voice coming from inside his apartment. He pushed his hair back from his eyes like he himself couldn’t believe it, revealing his classically handsome sharp features and stunned frown. “It’s Yoongi.”

“YOONGI?!”

The Min Yoongi, of the hour it seemed, rolled his eyes.

“What are you doing back there?” he called to the voice inside from the front hallway, not moving.

“Fixing my hair!” Park Jimin yelled back several decibels louder.

“I’m surprised,” Taehyung said, looking scowling Yoongi up and down like he was some kind of unidentified foreign object. “I thought you weren’t coming. Didn’t you say you were busy?”

“I made myself unbusy,” Yoongi grumbled back, pulling out his phone.

“You don’t make yourself unbusy for no reason.” Taehyung persisted, sticking his face in between Yoongi and his phone, making those cat-like eyes above narrow in annoyance.

“There’s alcohol.”

Taehyung wiggled his dark eyebrows. “I thought you were cutting back.”

Deadpan.

“Life’s shit, man.”

The younger male broke out into his boxy smile and booming laugh, pulling his head of brown curls back to double over. It was the combination of Yoongi’s dead-inside expression and monotone reply that was making Taehyung snort, that and Yoongi’s immediate return to his phone as if nothing was happening. Yoongi still made no move to actually step further into the apartment. He simply continued standing in front of the closed front door, on the welcome mat next to the shoes thrown about because Kim Taehyung couldn’t be neat unless he was impressing someone, and those people were not his best friend Park Jimin and unexpected-guest-but-still-friend Min Yoongi.

“You’re so funny, hyung.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows as he stared at his phone and gave Taehyung absolutely fucking nothing to work with to continue the conversation.

“I guess you intend to drink since you stopped by here,” Taehyung chattered on, bored and unbothered about Yoongi’s lack of communication. “I’m closest to the train station and in between the karaoke bar. Plus sharing a taxi with us is cheaper than paying on your own.”

Silence.

Taehyung prodded Yoongi’s arm.

“Uh huh.”

Innovative answer.

“I think everyone is going to be there then,” Taehyung continued on, smooth baritone voice calming as he listed the people. “Namjoonie-hyung, Seokjinnie-hyung, Hoseokie-hyung, Jimin, Jungkookie, you, me…”

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“He’s asleep.”

Taehyung pointed to the couch. There was a blob of gray, black and white, too much fabric and face-down into the couch pillows. A poof of wavy black hair the only indication the pile was a human and not forgotten laundry.

“What is he, a newborn infant?”

“I don’t know. He said he was tired. If we don’t let him nap now, he’ll pass out during karaoke and we’re not strong enough to carry him out. Remember last time?” Taehyung sighed.

The monochrome blob that was supposedly the man named Jeon Jungkook suddenly snored, as if on cue.

“Yeah, I don’t know what he’s is doing in the gym but he’s unmovable,” Yoongi muttered.

The phone vibrated.

“Oh, is that me?” Taehyung immediately felt around his pockets and looked around. “Ah, where did I–”

But it was not him. Yoongi looked down. Unfortunately, you’ll bear witness to my awful singing. I apologize in advance. The corner of his lips ticked as he read the message. He breathed out. One, two, three, four seconds, and typed back. That makes the two of us then. A part of him thought he shouldn’t have started this conversation. He wasn’t good at this small talk thing, but one had to make some kind of effort in getting to know someone. And, anyway, he knew himself.

Do before getting carried away.

And, yeah, he wanted to know this one.

“I knew it.”

Yoongi slowly blinked, sensing an ominous presence staring at his phone screen, most certainly reading the name there. Sigh. He pulled his arm back and put his phone in his pocket, looking up to see the grinning, scheming, falsely-angelic face of Park Jimin looming into his peripheral view.

“Oooh, Min Yoongi has a crush.”

Yoongi said nothing, because saying nothing was better than reaching over and strangling Jimin. The latter would require physical effort. Oh, and perhaps land him in jail for murder. But that was only because Taehyung was here as witness.

“Huh… I thought I got a notification,” the latter commented, emerging from his bedroom with his uncased smartphone. Yoongi often wondered how Taehyung never cracked it, but perhaps he just bought new ones when he did. Taehyung often chose aesthetics over practicality. “Oh, finally, you’re out of the bathroom. Do I have to open a window to spare myself?”

“Tae, Yoongi-hyung has a crush,” Jimin sing-songed, bouncing around the older male teasingly as Yoongi remained statuesque. “He’s texting Seokjinnie-hyung’s lady gamer friend.”

Yoongi did not confirm or deny this information as Taehyung’s brown doe eyes went wide.

“OH?”

“Hyung’s flirting.”

Yoongi felt his right eyelid twitch.

“Jungkookie! Jungkookie, wake up, I have news!”

The blob trembled, suddenly alive, shaken violently by a hyper-excited Taehyung who couldn’t believe his ears even though he did not fact-check Jimin and had zero proof if his best friend was telling the truth or not. Apparently, he was filled with too much glee to relay this sudden revelation to the youngest, sleepiest one of the soon-to-be-drunk-as-fuck-karaoke group.

“W... Wuh?”

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook was not that articulate when barely roused from the dead.

“Yoongi-hyung’s flirting!”

Those big peepers snapped open.

“He’s WHAT?!”

“Mmm.”

The night smelled like smoke and someone’s delicious dinner.

“I should, ah, head home now that you’re safely at your door and all that.”

The winter night framed his figure. A halo of streetlamp light caught the gloss of his wavy black hair. Long and dark and shadowy, strands curling around high cheekbones and fair skin. He caught your gaze as you turned to face him. Black-brown eyes and unreadable expression. Half-zipped parka, black sweatshirt, and blue jeans with gray paint splattered onto one knee. No scarf. Strange, because you knew this man was the kind of guy who always wore a beanie and prioritized sensibility over aesthetics, and yet.

Min Yoongi raised his hands and exhaled into his curled palms, warming his nose at the same time. He looked away from you to do so.

“Cold?”

He shrugged. “It’s winter.”

You half-smiled, lifting your ungloved left hand. “My hands are always warm. My face always gets cold first before my hands.”

He eyed your fur-lined leather jacket. A chocolatey faux fur, softness peeking out from the tougher black fabric. Then his eyeline shifted. Intently observing your face. If you were younger, you might have thought you had to react differently. Been shy like the movies or some shit.

You simply waited, keeping your touch hovering in the winter night.

Slowly, you lowered your hand.

Something fluttered in the darkness that was those eyes. You had seen it before, maybe even spied it earlier this night. It was only a get-together between friends, drinks and karaoke, neither activity you particularly enjoyed which led to your original decision of not going. One small detail changed your mind, and he was standing right in front of you. Your singing was awful, but Yoongi was still polite enough to say that you were better than he was. I’m only good at rap. Sure. You heard what he said and his singing voice proved to contradict it. So Min Yoongi was that kind of liar, huh.

You didn’t say goodbye yet.

You could see Yoongi was waiting for you to say it first. You removed your other hand from your jacket pocket. Empty, purposefully leaving your keys behind. Calmly stared into those dark eyes as he stepped forward. You could feel it. The fire beneath the waves. Felt it all night. In the stolen glances, in the way he spoke to you, polite with piqued curiosity, in the way time stopped when your eyes connected.

You smiled.

His cold fingers touched the back of your hand.

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t need the conversation to be with words. His hand on yours, chills wrapping around the warmth. Experiential. Testing the feeling between you and him. You didn’t need to wonder what he thought of you. He had reached out and touched your hand and you let him, reaching between you and him to softly rub the back of his knuckles, silently speaking to those dark eyes and parted lips through touch. His other hand raised and laid above your joined hands.

Black strands curved around his cheeks as Yoongi lowered his head.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he whispered, smokey and dusky.

Bodies closer, breath mixing. Your head tilted. Lashes lowering. Cold night air disappearing because of the fire under the water, breath to breath, hot, almost burning, the desire to break the surface rising, rising.

“Is it this?” you murmured, barely audible.

You could tell a lot from one kiss. He did not hide his hesitancy or his want. Honesty from the very beginning of his lips on yours, surprised at the way you pressed back against him and inhaled, imprinting the moment to your memory with his scent. Your grip tightened and his did too, telling you everything you needed to know, kiss after kiss, pulling him to you, away from the winter night and memories of a friendly get-together, about to change them into something…

Else.

Yeah.

Fuck it, you were already pushing his parka down his shoulders before your front door finished closing. It was dark but that didn’t matter when you remembered where everything was, flicking on low lights and bringing his face close to yours again, creating the magical moments on your own, not waiting for Yoongi for do so. He was enough magic in his breathless gasps and the way he seamlessly followed the fervor of your kiss, his shallow sighs saturated with lust. There was very little talking except the conversation of bodies. Not much to say when you collided him into the wall and slid your hands under his sweatshirt, skin to warm skin, kisses turning to hot breath and flicks of tongue against his neck, shivers under your lips, and then he flipped the situation, strong hands on your shoulders and rolling against the wall, pinning you with his body.

Hair all over his eyes.

Shaking inhale.

A hall lamp lighting the left side of his face.

“Too fast?” you asked softly.

Dark orbs flickered to yours.

“… No.”

Closer, his air becoming your air.

“I just don’t want you to think this is the reason I walked you home. I didn’t want you to get hurt. Walking at night alone isn’t safe. People are crazy.”

You half-smiled. Alright, more of a smirk. “Maybe I’m one of them.”

A light chuckle, impressed and amused at the same time. “I was trying to sober up too.” Giving excuses.

“Heard you have a high tolerance.”

“Alcohol is alcohol.”

“So, does the alcohol wanna fuck me or do you?”

No one ever called you subtle.

Yoongi closed the distance, his hair falling against your forehead. You could tell he was struggling with himself whether or not to be swept up in the waves of your fire, or maybe struggling with what was wrong and what was right, or maybe he was hesitating once he felt your relentless energy under his hands, but you could also feel something pressing against your crotch and it wasn’t one of his legs.

He was very calm once he made his decision.

“What do you like?”

Your hands in his hair, his ear between your teeth, and his moan into your pillows. Clothes all over the floor, body to body, so much heat that you both seemed to forget it was winter. His hand on your breasts, your hard nipples between his fingertips, your mouth opening and extending your tongue, teasing him, tangling your legs in his. There was some irresistible about his smile and his smirk. You chased both, running your nails over his back and ass, his hard cock pressed to your thigh and his hiss against your neck, do you have condoms, we shouldn’t, but he didn’t need to finish since you were already prepared.

“I’m not irresponsible.”

“Oh?” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow. Glanced at your rumpled sheets, his naked body as he rolled down the condom, and then at your naked body. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

You just smirked.

You were often careful after the first time, following the energy of the other person rather than your own desires. But this time, something was different. Your hand would press to his chest, fingernails curling in, and, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, his length filling you, contented sighs mixing, raking your nails down, lines of pain in your wake, listening to his hitched breath, his eyes flashing.

He didn’t say it, but his voice was in his racing heartbeat and throbbing cock.

More.

Not quite competitiveness but more like pleasure from pushing the limit. There was a certain measure of reservedness, like how he waited patiently for you to lift your leg up onto his shoulder. First one, and then you tapped his other arm. Yoongi raised his eyebrows, but he lifted his other arm, hand back to your mattress once you were folded under him.

You lifted your hips up and rammed into his crotch.

He sucked in a growl and winced, screwing his eyes shut. Probably to avoid you seeing anything too embarrassing. You let your muscles slowly close in around him, squeezing his hardness, letting yourself feel him inside you. Appreciating. He didn’t move right away. You did, steadily fucking him from below, his chest against your thighs, keeping the smirk on your face to stay as infuriating as possible.

“Fucking… Are you enjoying this?”

Low and dangerous, sweet chills up your spine at his deep voice.

“Do you fuck without the intent of enjoying it?” you countered.

He narrowed his eyes and fucked you into your mattress. Merciless and hard and deliberate. Good rhythm, which you expected. Intensity over speed, which you did not expect. Yoongi knew what he was doing. He was not just chasing his own pleasure. There was no need to with the way that you were nearly sending him over the edge with the control of your own muscles. He slowed down for a moment, lifting a hand and tracing your jaw with his fingertips, whispers under his pants, you have nice lips, you know, the perfect shape, and you licked the air, the tongue is better.

Cocked eyebrow, open-mouthed smirk.

“I’ll have to find out next time.” He ticked his head downward. “You wanna get off with me?”

“I will if you fuck me hard enough.”

“You don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not. You’ll feel it, trust me.”

You thrusted with him to get that depth you liked and he did, in fact, feel it.

“F-Fuck!”

You bit your lower lip and grinned, throwing your head back and feeling your moan vibrate in your chest, lengthening your high with the containment. Eyes closing, no more talking, your arms up and hands clutching the pillows, fucking him as he fucked you, his swears turning into moans as he felt your orgasm convulse around him, honey wetness sticking to your inner thighs and his, chasing a higher high, cutting off every one before the final crescendo, not letting yourself fully let go, not yet, almost there, not yet.

Saturating every second with vicious, hot pleasure.

Somehow Yoongi knew. Felt it, chased it with you, his muscles tense, rigid, holding back too, building the higher high, harder, steady, fuck, so good.

Your name tumbling from his throat, the warning, and his from yours, the moment, orgasm so intense you forgot to breathe for a second, suspended, and then the crash, gasping as you felt him twitch inside you and your walls pulse, electricity shooting through your nerves, tingling and euphoric, gripping your pillows covered in your hair as Yoongi leaned forward and covered you in his hair and hot breath, colliding kiss matching the escalating beats of racing hearts.

Yoongi stared into your eyes much later, all his clothes back on.

“What?” you asked.

“Just memorizing your eyes.”

He kissed you.

“Love is more circumstance than fate.”

“I always thought so, too.”

These kinds of things came up in conversation around others. These were moments that happened by happenstance. For instance, in the middle of Taehyung’s tirade about how true love was definitely fate between two beings who had a connection unique to themselves that could not be replicated, and he deliberately ignored Yoongi when he pointed out that every connection one had with another was unique because it was between two individuals.

You and Yoongi shared a look of faint amusement in the midst of Taehyung’s abrupt soapbox speech.

Hoseok blinked and repeated his question of whether or not he suited the acorn-shaped pouch that was slightly overpriced despite being on sale. Namjoon injected and said that if he has asking then it meant that he was hesitating. Seokjin told him who cares, just buy it, it’s cute. That was enough convincing for Jung Hoseok. He brought it on the spot.

You found Yoongi afterward, waiting for you around the corner.

“Oh. I thought you went home.”

He looked at you, lowering the hood of his parka.

“I thought about it, but it had been a while since I appreciated the night.”

Then there was silence, until you were close, and then those dark eyes stayed on you, tendrils of black between you and him. Your fingertips touched the button placket of his coat. His head lowered. His breath had a little sweetness to it because of the Korean liquor. You kissed him.

You closed your eyes when you did.

You didn’t say much more.

You didn’t really look at his apartment when you arrived. You were too entangled in the lip lock and pinning his wrists to the wall. Heat pressed to heat. His tongue thrusting between your lips. The cold rapidly defrosting once skin was against skin.

Your nails down his chest.

Heavy exhale, burning anticipation.

You didn’t need to ask yourself, why am I like this. People spent years wondering on their own, but those years were already behind you, in lonely nights of both your parents working overtime and you alone at the table doing homework, cooking your own meals, cleaning up after yourself. If you wanted the video games to distract your brain, you had to be a good daughter. Being a good daughter was not that hard. Do all the things you were supposed to do and take up as little mental space as possible.

Something like that.

You ran your tongue along the inside of Yoongi’s thigh and savored his shudder.

The only detail that slightly annoyed your mother was that you weren’t interested in marrying Seokjin and Seokjin was clearly not interested in marrying you. Not much she could do about that. She gave up on asking for those kinds of details after that, mostly to avoid her own disappointment.

You wrapped your tongue around hot, taut skin, controlling the pressure of your tongue and lips. Up, down, tongue moving independently along the underside of the head, so precise that you saw his fingers sink into his sheets, surprise rippling over his features. Raised an eyebrow at him, letting the amusement show.

Yoongi smirked, a look that suited him very much.

All the way down, hitting the back of your throat. Easy. Guess a lot of people could call you a whore for that but, then again, the ones who actually knew were probably too busy pining over the fact that they would never feel it once more. Didn’t help that you acted as if it never happened once you were done.

You had dedication to games, but to people?

Not really.

It was fun to figure out people. It was fun discovering Yoongi. His sounds, every sigh, the tone of his moan, the way his breath shook when you took him deep and slow. He became very hard every time you went as deep as possible, past the point of breathing. He didn’t try to push your head or interfere with your pace. It was as if he trusted your movement, which was what he should do, because you knew what you were doing.

You swirled your tongue around the head as you went down.

He sucked in a gasp and closed his eyes, visible tension over his chest.

There was a strange familiarity to his movements. That was the only way you could describe the ease of reading his body language. Sometimes you let yourself feel the extent of the pleasure and sometimes you let the pressure build in your body to wallow in the torture of the buildup, like what he was doing now. He wanted to last, so you made it last. Not too fast. Tongue all over his hard, pulsing length, slowing down at the right moment of his hips shivering, layering the intensity again, stroking his balls as you sucked him, spreading the dripping saliva all over.

You hadn’t been having sex with Yoongi for very long, but it felt like you already knew his body.

You let him consider the possibility of you not letting him cum and then you continued the intensity, pushing him over the edge.

“… F-Fuck…!”

Rammed the throbbing head down your throat and felt his thick, salty orgasm spurt into the confines, leaking over your tongue and the roof of your mouth, breathing in to push it back. His hips involuntarily jerked and you immediately reached up to grip them and shove him back down, swallowing around the harsh pulses.

You heard Yoongi moan, low and sweet and erotic.

People were like games.

Only few had replay value.

He thought about saying something, but there wasn’t much to say.

It was his policy to not make something out of nothing. Grander, more general things, sure, he kept those ambitions. But, day-to-day, he learned it was better to go with the flow. You didn’t have disappointments if you didn’t expect much to begin with, so Yoongi didn’t expect much and let himself feel what he wanted to feel.

Like his hands on those thighs and pressing delicious legs to his chest as he sank in.

He tended to enjoy the fucking on top simply because it was easier for him. Most of the time, he didn’t feel much need to experiment or be creative. Most of the time, they weren’t worth it. Her? He fucked her in every position he could think of. This time, he felt the urge to fuck with most of his clothes on, with her holding up his shirt as he thrust into her on the edge of the bed. Not the most optimal position for maximum pleasure, but the arousal in the unnatural movement was enough to get him off.

Her too.

He could tell by the unforgiving clenching around his cock and the sopping wetness that was sticking to his balls, which was causing him to last minutes. You would think the human body would last longer if it felt better, so the pleasure could be felt more extensively, but his dick was much more interested in the instant gratification it was getting.

Oh, well.

He would have to fuck multiple times then, to prolong the pleasure.

She was the one to ask him first. Meeting without the false alibi of just happening to be at the same gathering at the same time. He went with the flow. Their fingertips touching. Her leaning in and kissing his collarbone, lips so soft that they made his nerves spark and muscles shiver, tilting his head back as her tongue traced a thin line upwards, wet heat against his pulse, her hand falling from his hand, tracing his neck.

“Choke me,” he whispered.

Yoongi liked doing things for the sheer curiosity of it.

She sucked on his ear when she choked him and electrified his whole body with lust, his hands finding her hips and slamming them down on his crotch, moaning into her ear shamelessly.

Yoongi knew he got himself into moments like this.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own.

His fingers buried into her wet, warm pussy and he inhaled, drinking in the sweet scent of her juices, in, out, so good, the feeling of power and pleasure at his fingertips, tactile and visceral and intense. Staring into those piercing eyes with one hand around his neck and the other around his hard cock, choking both until he came on her thigh and hip, but not before she came onto his fingers, pushing himself to the brink with his forearm vibrating. Ended up being sore the next day.

Worth it.

Yoongi told himself to do before getting carried away.

He was getting carried away, especially when he was alone.

His shaking breath, breathe in, breathe out, high on the bliss, their lips colliding, covered in each other, salty, sweet, sticky, closer but not, and it was nobody’s fault but his own, because he always thought about saying something, but didn’t.

There wasn’t much to say.

He looked into those eyes, and he didn’t want to say anything. Just wanted to appreciate their shape, their color, the feeling they gave him when he gazed into them, like he could live million lifetimes but recognize those eyes every time. A strange kind of familiarity that didn’t have an explanation. He had known Kim Seokjin for a while, but Seokjin was protective of his female friends, especially his most important one.

So, Yoongi stayed respectful until his brain started getting carried away because his dick wasn’t doing enough.

Well.

He tried.

“I gotta ask you something.”

“You can ask me after you press A, you dimwit.”

“I am pressing A. It’s lagging!” Seokjin growled, bopping you on the arm. You continued leaning against his broad shoulder as the Pokémon raid loaded up. “Are you dating Yoongi?”

“Mmm,” was your reply as you pressed the buttons in order. Battle, Swords Dance, on your Ceruledge. Had to get the setup going to do the most damage before your stats become nullified. The raids in Pokémon were meant to convince players to participate in online play, but math and logic could help you solo or duo them quite easily. You needed Seokjin there so you had one less idiot AI. In fact, Seokjin only purchased this generation of Pokémon to help you out in certain things. Raids and completing the Pokédex. He wasn’t as attached to the series as you were. He played so he could understand what you meant when referencing it, but he wasn’t that invested.

He was a good friend.

“Are you or not?”

“Don’t think it’s any of your business,” you responded absentmindedly, reaching over to command his statistically-perfect Arboliva that you gifted him for this very purpose to perform Helping Hand. You might as well have been doing this raid alone. Seokjin was basically simply a spare console accompanied by a warm body.

For now.

Kidding… unless?

Nah, he was too much fun to tease.

“It is my business. You’re my friend, he’s my friend and, if you two are dating, it’ll make the group all weird.”

“Your friend group is already all weird.”

Seokjin prodded you in the head as you selected Bitter Blade for your attack move. “Be serious.”

“Ask him.”

“I did. He said to ask you.”

“Huh.”

Silence.

“… I’ll kill him if he abandons you.”

You couldn’t pause the raid. It was timed and the raid Pokémon had to be defeated in that time, or you would get kicked out. You didn’t say anything. Just kept pressing buttons, turning automatic.

“Well, I won’t kill him. I’ll make Jungkook kill him.”

Reaching over Seokjin, who did nothing to help you. He just held the Switch as you selected the correct moves and thought about who you needed to raise next. Maybe a Gardevoir. You needed more special attackers to avoid Abilities like Cursed Body and the Burn status condition.

Seokjin was suddenly quiet.

“… You think he’d do that?” you finally said, not quite sure what you meant in asking that.

You felt a hand on your head, bringing you closer to broad shoulders and his game.

“I don’t know.”

One thing about Seokjin was that he always told the truth.

“Are you getting your dick wet or what?”

Yoongi blinked slowly.

“What?”

“Jimin, you can’t ask that,” Hoseok scolded, whacking Jimin’s chopsticks with his own to punish the younger male because the walking sunshine was too pure-hearted to physically strike Jimin. “Eat your food.”

Jimin thinned his plump lips and gave Yoongi the side eye instead of eating his meal like Hoseok told him to. “I think you are. I feel it.”

Yoongi made the executive decision to ignore Jimin and continue serving himself the soup, adding plenty of vegetables. “Hoseok, haven’t you been working a lot lately? You need to eat more meat. You’re getting too thin.”

“You sound like my parents, hyung,” Hoseok laughed jovially as Yoongi added extra slices of marinated beef onto his plate. “Thanks, thanks.”

“Don’t avoid the question,” Jimin continued, buzzing away like a determined bee.

“I get it wet every day. It’s called a shower.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And I answered you.”

Jimin squinted under his fluffy auburn locks. “You’re sussy.”

“Huh?” Hoseok blinked rapidly, cocking his head. “Sussy?”

“Suspicious. Taehyung taught me.”

Hoseok’s lips curled into a round ‘o’, seemingly filing away this new lingo. “Man, sometimes I feel so old around you and Taehyung even though I’m only a year older.” The bustling restaurant complimented his cheerful voice, warm smells and fragrant conversation mixing with the clinking of plates and glasses. He reached over the table, patting Yoongi on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re talking to someone though. I thought you were going to die alone.”

Those cat-like eyes shifted away.

“… Thanks.”

Nothing more.

“Uh oh, there’s trouble in paradise already.”

“Is something wrong?” Hoseok asked, frowning slightly at the older male’s reaction.

Yoongi sighed, and shook his head.

“It’s nothing. There’s not much to say about it.”

Hoseok caught on right away, nodding intently. “Right! Speaking of, Jimin, I heard you are leading a theater production all on your own.”

“A-Ah, just the choreography for the songs…” A small hand attempted to wave away Hoseok’s sudden unwavering excitement. “Really, it’s not that serious…”

“Yes, it is! A musical! With weeks and weeks of shows…!”

Yoongi avoided looking at his phone all night. He kept his eyes forward and focused on the conversation with his friends. If he didn’t, he would be stuck in his thoughts, wondering what all those nights really meant if all he had now was silence and a loveholic’s hangover he didn’t ask for.

“Oh, shit.”

Those were the first words you had spoken to a real, physical, in-the-flesh human being in a long time (Seokjin didn’t count). First words you had spoken all day, actually. Wait. Maybe you exclaimed out loud, you little fucker, get in the damn ball, earlier. Highly probable. No need to censor yourself when you were at home.

“You have left me on read for two weeks.”

“Oh… shit.”

After the shock had set in, the cold suddenly became apparent. It was winter, after all. Extra obvious by the snow on the ground and the big black parka the person outside your door was wearing, although the red flush around his neck and cheekbones was not from the icy breeze.

“Two weeks,” the man at your front door repeated with a growl, and he started advancing which, in most cases, would be a sign to call the police.

“Surely,” you sputtered, fumbling with your phone in your other hand, letting go of the knob because the screen was tab after open tab of various Pokédex entries of the Pokémon you were considering spending your previous in-game money on to make statistically perfect. Ahem, anyway, you hurriedly changed apps to your Messages app, your eyes widening as you saw the dates of your last messages.

Oh shit.

“Actually, it’s only been twelve days–”

“Twelve days of nothing,” he snapped, slamming closed your front door that you were honestly slightly grateful for. It was fuckin’ cold out there. “And what do I hear tonight? Just yesterday you were speaking to Jeon Jungkook on the phone.”

And, at this point, Min Yoongi got in your face.

You held your phone close to your purple sherpa pullover and stepped back as a stern, gracefully annoyed expression confronted you. Wild long black hair, furrowed eyebrows, and flashing dark eyes. Flushed pink lips twisted into irritation. Open jacket revealing his black sweater and light blue jeans, strange for such a cold night.

“Have you been drinking?” you observed, catching a whiff of his exhale.

“I’m not drunk,” Yoongi countered, backing up and scowling. “I was at Namjoon’s and then I remembered you lived nearby. So, I walked.”

“You… walked?”

“Yeah.”

You blinked slowly.

“Kim Namjoon… if you’re walking… that’s about an hour away….”

The scowl straightened out, leaving a stoic profile as Yoongi refused to look at you.

He grunted.

You were surprised.

“I… Jeon Jungkook called me.” You felt the sudden urge to fill the space of silence as the man before you kept his gaze at a firm ninety-degrees to the wall despite your face being right there. “He was worried about Seokjin, because he kept trying to call him. Seokjin had sent him a box of grapes from his uncle’s farm and Jungkook was trying to thank him via call because his mom told him he couldn’t simply text, but Seokjin wasn’t answering the calls and then Jungkook got worried so he called me since I have Seokjin’s family number but then I reminded Jungkook that that rich guy and his family went to a luxurious mountain resort to go skiing and wouldn’t be back until next weekend,” you finished in a jumbled mess of oversharing.

Silence.

You were highly aware that your Nintendo Switch was loudly playing the classic, cheery jingle of the Pokémon Center in your bedroom, echoing the bright notes throughout your apartment as, er, your possibly-soon-to-be-past fling? current interest? situation-ship? continued staring at the wall as if the paint was the one speaking to him.

To reiterate, you were surprised.

“I… I didn’t think you cared,” you explained, looking up at Yoongi.

He turned his head.

Looking down, black hair around his cheeks. Lashes lifting, slow motion, dark brown orbs raising, then the darkness was on you, and there was no anger, no malice, the heated air of his rash imposition fizzling out once your eyes connected.

His lips parted.

Nothing came out, as if he was about to say something emotional but then stopped himself. His brows knitted together, a moment of recollection, and then.

“Namjoon said I should be honest, so I’m here to tell you that you pissed me off by ignoring me,” he mumbled.

You blinked. Slowly, once again.

“O… Oh. I apologize.”

Silence except heartbeats.

Yoongi looked away.

You could piece the entire picture together now. Your eyes shifted, side to side, to his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, to the faint tint of pink around his ears and neck, to his relaxed shoulders and that tense heart, and you were surprised because Yoongi had always held himself with a devil-may-care attitude and straightforward bluntness. Not that you didn’t think there was more, but rather it seemed as if he didn’t want to address that under any circumstances and you had no need for more when you were your own happiness, and so you asked him another question.

“Is this you or the alcohol talking?”

Yoongi clicked his tongue and frowned, flickering glare meeting you. “Alcohol doesn’t make you a different person. I’m not someone else just because I had a few bottles with Namjoon. I have a high tolerance anyway.”

You smiled.

“I know. Wanted to make sure you were thinking the same thing I was.”

That was why Yoongi and you ended up in this situation. Because he seemed to always end up thinking the same thing you were. There wasn’t much discussion or mystery. There was you and there was him in the same place at the same time. Multiple times. Overlapping interests, but not all the same. Kept things interesting. Discovering you had the same core values and then the same kind of comfortable silence that turned into his hand on yours, experimental, are you thinking what I’m thinking, bodies closer, breath mixing, heads tilting, is it this?

Playing the game.

The Pokémon Center music faded out and then picked up again, always aggressively joyous, always ready to nurse your team back to full health.

You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. “Hah… I’ve just… been playing the new Pokémon game came out recently, so I took time off to play it… thought I said…”

“You did say,” he interrupted.

Awkward pause.

“You did say,” and this time Yoongi sighed, suddenly smacking his palm into his forehead and rubbing it, mussing up his own hair. “You did say, and I believe everyone should enjoy something with the kind of passion you exhibit for your interests. I just wanted you to involve me even though I know nothing.”

You stared at him.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why would I involve you in something you don’t care about?”

“I don’t care about it yet.”

“Why would you care about it?”

He flung his hand away from his face and scowled. “Are you an idiot?”

“Depends, are you confessing?”

Again, no one ever called you subtle.

Frigid embarrassment, and it wasn’t from you. Shocking. Suddenly your wall became irresistible to Yoongi’s eyeballs once more. You patiently waited.

“… No.”

“Ah. I see.”

You did see, straight through his bullshit.

Yoongi pursed his lips and gave you the side-eye. “I don’t want to play games.”

You shrugged. “Well, I do, because I’m a nerd, and I could make you a nerd too if you take off your shoes and come to the bedroom.” Chewed on your lip and felt that you should go back to being serious, at least for a moment. “I am sorry. I thought you would call me a kid, and I like you enough to not want you to be so ignorant, so I especially avoided speaking much about playing Pokémon. Honestly, I would rather hear you say that you don’t want to see me anymore than hear you talk shit about my cute pocket monster friends.”

Yoongi surprised you again.

He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t hate Pokémon. I used to watch the animation as a kid. I somewhat regret not being more into it, because then maybe you would have let me in a lot more if we had that common interest.”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“Putting your dick in my pussy is not letting you in a lot more?”

He raised an eyebrow back.

“You’re right. That was the alcohol talking,” he replied in a deadpan voice.

You smiled.

He smiled back. It did not seem like he wanted to and it did not seem like he could help himself either. What a predicament. You couldn’t relate.

“Do people like to tell you you’re difficult?” you asked with too much glee, unable to hide your amusement any longer.

The corner of his lips twitched. “All the fuckin’ time.”

You nodded knowingly. “Did you know we have that in common?”

He ticked his head at you, messy black hair over his cheeks and open-mouthed smirk. “Strangely enough, I seem to have learned that tonight.”

“I’m about to teach you a lot more, this time about Pokémon and not about how deep I can throat dick.”

“Consider giving me a supplemental lesson about the latter in the morning when I’m completely sober.”

“Hmm, I accept if can you listen without falling asleep.”

Yoongi eventually did fall asleep, but he did last three hours and retained most of the information in the morning despite being a drunk, ahem, not drunk (according to him) man confessing his feelings at your doorstep. In the future, once he had purchased his own game and was playing alongside you, he would insist that moment was not the one when he confessed, that he definitely confessed later (sober, mind you), and that he definitely did not purchase a Nintendo Switch and start studying the Pokédex more because of you (he had simply found the game a good way to wind down).

Games were just more fun to play now when he had a player two.

Yeah.

We know better.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

613 notes · View notes

emelinstriker · 7 months

Text

i just saw i have a few maplestory commanders x reader lemons in my lemonade stand book and i never published them cuz i never finshed them

but the fact that they all got like up to fuckin 2k words i-

me who just wanted to check on the book again after like 5 years and seeing so many goddamn 2020 maplestory drafts

like i just wanted to see if i could possibly write out esau lemons there if i ever felt motivated enough

#emelin rambles

8 notes · View notes

yeehawbvby · 2 years

Text

Falling Away With You | Ch. 14

Sebastian x F! Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/N does some serious thinking while drunk uwu

Author’s Note: n/a

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

“I’m coming in!” Sam warns us from the other side of the door, before stumbling in.

Seb and I look up from our respective computers to see Sam struggling to hold a pile of bags on top of his cooler, his skateboard under his arm.

“Why didn’t you put things in the cooler?” Sebastian asks.

“The ice is in there.”

“How much ice did you get?!”

After carefully fumbling the snacks and beers onto the Solarian-designated table, Sam sets the cooler on the ground between Seb and I. He kicks it open and there’s a half-melted bag of ice inside.

A moment of silence.

“How is it already melted?” Seb asks, totally baffled.

“The freezer at Pierre’s is broken, and this bag was the last he had.”

“Wait, there’s plenty of room for the stuff though,” I think aloud. “I still don’t get why you didn’t just toss it in there so make the way back here easier.”

“I didn’t want anything to get wet.”

Himboism at its finest.

Facepalming, Seb exclaims, “It’s all going to get wet you dipshit, we’re taking it to a fuckin’ pool!”

“Alright, why didn’t one of you just bring these things then?!” Sam pouts, “Considering you’re so willing to critique...”

I groan. “Fair enough.”

“Oh my god, Is that ToonTown?!” Sam asks, excitedly leaning over my back and caging me in. I look up, and his eyes are bright with excitement.

“Mhm,” I hum proudly, finishing up a cog battle. “I was gonna play MapleStory, but xxRunescapeDaddy420 over there wouldn’t let me.” I glare at Seb.

“I don’t want that Maple Garbage on my PC.”

“Why can’t MapleStory and RuneScape coexist? Why are you making it a competition?!”

“My PC, my rules.”

“You don’t even use this PC.”

“‘You don’t even use this PC’ shut the fuck up.”

“Make me!”

“No! Nope! Please don’t make her,” Sam rapidly begs. “Not while I’m here.”

“Bro?” I look up at him, wincing.

“Come on, you know how Sebby is! He was totally gonna make that dirty.”

We both look at Seb, who’s devilishly chuckling as he works. “He’s not wrong, darling.”

“Gross,” I fib. I’d actually love to know how he’d shut me up. “You wanna get in here?” I ask Sam, motioning towards the computer.

“Yoba, yes.” I stand up and he eagerly replaces my spot, making a beeline out of Loopy Lane and towards the nearest trolley.

I slot myself into the space between Sebastian’s back and the wall, wrapping my arms over his shoulders and tippy-toeing to place my head on top of his. He tilts down to kiss my forearm, not once stopping programming.

“Holy shit, you’re cold,” he murmurs. I nod. His basement is always cold, somehow. “Here,” he shimmies me off, then shimmies his hoodie off too. “Put this on.” I gladly toss the fabric over my head, thanking him, and resume my place – practically latched onto him.

I indulge myself in both watching Seb’s long fingers type, and inspecting the keyboard beneath them. I’ve been wondering about his build since the night we had phone sex. It definitely sounds modded, now that I’m hearing it in-person — maybe with foam, but I can’t tell. He uses black pudding keycaps, a coiled cable, and what looks like an aluminum case… He knows his shit.

My dorky ass is swooning.

I hold off on judging him further via analyzing his case and hardware, and bring my attention back up to the screen. He’s gotten so much done in such little time. I have no idea how this shit works, but I can tell he’s skilled at his craft.

“Can you teach me how to do this stuff sometime?”

“Nerd,” Sam absentmindedly calls out, his gaze still focused on his screen.

“Fuck you,” Seb and I simultaneously quip. Aw, we’re cute. Sam audibly groans.

Sebastian stops typing and tilts his head up to view me. “You’d really want to learn how to code?”

“Fuck yeah, your job’s so cool. I wanna be cool.”

“Fucking nerd.” He smiles bashfully. He wraps me into a side hug, giving my hip a brief squeeze that makes me all tingly. “Of course I’ll teach you. Not right now, though.”

“Obviously,” I cheekily roll my eyes.

I steal my scrunchie back from Seb’s lap – I guess that’s where it landed when it fell out of his hair, earlier – and toss my hair half-up into a messy bun.

Next, I put the drinks into the cooler since Sam neglected the poor things. Stealing a package of potato chips from one of the grocery bags, I pull a stool over to the man’s station. For the next few hours, Sam and I take turns destroying kids and fellow nostalgics in the addicting mini-games we grew up with.

__________________

When the three of us arrived at the bathhouse, it was already pretty late. Seb’s last module was a bit rushed, which in turn brought up a few errors that needed fixing. Sam had to be contained. To quell the beast, I sat atop his back as he laid face-down on Seb’s bed. If I hadn’t done that, he would’ve kept bugging Seb to hurry up, only slowing us down further.

There’s a ton of bugs out, so I got eaten alive by mosquitos during the walk. I also don’t have a swimsuit, and am too unwilling to deal with more bites to go home and grab one, so I’m just rocking my shorts and bra for the swim.

When I emerge from the locker room with my tee and Seb’s hoodie in hand, I dart for the bevs. A hard lemonade sounds perfect after today.

I turn, confused by the lack of a ruckus happening around me, and find that the guys are sitting at the water’s edge just… staring . Sam’s eyes look like they’re gonna bulge out of his skull, that poor boy. Seb, on the other hand, looks as calm as ever as he unabashedly investigates my body.

“For fuck’s sake. Have you absolute virgins never seen a girl in sportswear before?” I’m laughing, but in reality, all this attention is overwhelming and I don’t like it.

I hop over the side of the pool, bypassing the steps in order to hide in the water as soon as possible. Once I’m firmly planted against the wall and next to Seb’s dangling legs, I start chugging my drink.

Simultaneously, they answer me. “Never,” Seb pipes with a wink and a sip, as Sam mumbles, “You’re different, I dunno.”

Seb is still wearing a shirt – a plain white tee. I’m about to question it, but then I remember his scars, and assume Sam probably doesn’t know they’re there. I shouldn’t ask.

“I only have, like, another hour to hang,” Sam sighs as he dips the rest of his body into the water. His fluorescent pink shorts seem to glow from the surface. “Jodi and her damn curfews.”

“I should’ve known she’d be batshit,” I mumble. “First time I met her – the first time! – she invited me in and ranted about being lonely and hating housework for almost an hour.”

“Yeesh. Sorry.”

I wave him off, then whisper, zoning out on the opposite side of the room, “At least she’s hot…”

“Dude, what?!” Sam snaps his head towards me in disgust, as I snicker into another sip.

Sebastian’s cracking up beside me, his free hand weaving through my hair to tug out some spare knots from the bun I had in it earlier. I duck under the surface for a sec, hoping wet hair could be easier to work with than the rat’s nest that was on my head before. “She’s not wrong, dude.”

“Dude!” Sam groans. He starts chugging the beer in his hand as if to wash this conversation away.

“When she brought me inside that day, I thought, ‘Wow. This is how porns usually start,’” I egg on.

“Oh, you’re still speaking?” Ooo, Sassy Sam! I like it!

“I wonder if Yoba knows one of their worshippers is a MILF.”

“I hate you,” Sam breathes.

Before he can finish, Seb adds, “I’d hate-fuck her.”

“SO MUCH,” the blonde finishes.

Seb and I are both losing our shit, when we’re hit with a wave of overly-salted and mildly chlorinated water. We deserved that.

The next bit of time is uneventful. Mostly just Sam talking about his plans for their alleged band, while I sleepily and tipsily listen on. Sam wants to name themselves The Pelicans, but Seb thinks it’s too basic. Abby, who apparently will be on drums, likes the name Goblin Destroyer, but Sam and Seb both don’t like that one. I thought it was neat. Seb didn’t have any ideas that fit their vibe, naturally coming up with things that were far too edgy for the alt/indie rock sound they’re aiming for.

I got up to grab us another round at one point, and so did Seb, but that’s it as far as movement goes. Not much swimming for the ~swimmies and sippies~.

Once it’s time for Sam to leave, Seb and I offer to walk him home, but he insists it’s okay since he has his board. He leaves the drinks for us, too. A kind-hearted move, considering how much we tortured him over having a bangin’ mom.

A cozy silence takes over once the pitter-pattering of Sam’s footsteps in the changing room fades away. Seb’s still avoiding the water, now laying on his side at the edge rather than with his feet in. I’m still planted in front of him, and he hasn’t stopped touching me – my hair, my shoulders, my earrings – this whole time. I take solace knowing he’s as touch-starved as I am.

Melting into his gentle head scratches, I mumble, “This feels so nice.” I close my eyes. Oof, shouldn’t close those. Feels too spinny. But then again, this is so comfy…

“Don’t fall asleep in there,” Seb warns.

“I’ll do m’darndest,” I retort as I open my lids back up.

He chuckles, and I tilt backward to get a better view. Fuck, he’s so hot.

“You’re literally,” I slur, “soooo fuckingggg hottttt, dude.”

A blush coats his skin, but he teases me anyway. “Oh man, she’s affectionate-drunk already.”

“I don’t need t’be drunk to think you're smonking hot!” At this moment, I’m oblivious to all the speech errors I’m making. I’m brimming with determination, desperately pleading my case.

“Just how often do you think about how hot I am, (y/n)?” He’s got that mischievous glint in his eye that I love.

Not caring, I take the bait, turning around fully before declaring my answer. “ Almost constantly.”

He tantalizingly hums. “Careful. You’re stroking the hell out of my ego. You know that, right?”

I nod confidently. “Mhmmm.” After putting down my empty bottle, I float to the side a little bit, getting myself closer to his face. “Not the only thing of yours that I can stroke,” I wink, shooting finger guns at him.

“You’re not stroking anything while you’re like this,” he snorts. “How are you such a lightweight?”

“Fuck you, I’m not a lightweight.”

“Whatever you say, little one.”

“What if I walked around calling you tall guys ‘big ones,’ how would y’feel?”

“Indifferent.”

“That’s a load’a bullshit!”

“It’s not! Most men like being referred to as big.” He winks. Ugh. “Toxic masculinity, or whatever, ya know?”

Seb takes off his shirt and slips into the pool next to me, leaning his elbow on the edge and his head onto his arm. Too distracted to continue our previous conversation, I reach out to touch the scars lining his ribs and tummy. He reactively jolts a little before settling into my touch.

“I’m really glad none of these are new,” I barely whisper. “I want you t’be happy.”

He takes my wandering hand in his and kisses the back of my palm, hiding his smile behind it. “You’ve helped, y’know.”

I beam, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’ve changed my perspective on a lot of things, (y/l/n),” he rambles. “I’ve been finding myself grinning a lot lately, for no reason. Probably because of you. Maybe.”

I wade my way into his torso, embracing him. In my drunken stupor, I almost accidentally tell Seb that I love him. It’s gotta be more impulsive than anything, right? I’m not already that crazy about him, right? It’s just ‘cause I’m drunk. Right? …Maybe?

Fuck.

I keep quiet as I contemplate my feelings. He takes notice. “You alright, darling?”

I hum with pleasure, “If you keep calling me that , I will be.”

“Oh no.”

I giggle into his shoulder, fully latching onto him with the water’s assistance. Koala-style.

“Sebastian, what are we?”

“What are you on about now?” he giggles, palming my hamstrings.

“Like, we’re obvioushly not just friends anymore,” I drawl.

He shrugs beneath me, and I move my upper body back to see his face. That stupid, perfect, slim, ivory, smooth, pretty face. Goddamn, he’s so beautiful.

“Well,” he smirks, moving some stray wet hairs out of my face. “I would love for you to be my girlfriend, (y/n), but your bouquet isn’t ready yet.” He kisses me softly, then mutters against my lips, “You deserve the whole shabang if we’re going to make anything official.”

“Whatever.” I replace myself back into his neck, trailing a few smooches from his shoulder to where I end up settling. “It’s a dumb tradition…” I grumble.

“You love it.”

“...Sure. But I’m impatient.”

Seb laughs quietly, cupping his hand to the back of my head and running his fingers through my hair.

Mmm.

Everything is so fuzzy. Everything except for Sebastian…

God, I really am an affectionate drunk. I feel so mushy. It’s kinda pitiable, actually.

I wonder how his surname would sound with my name? (Y/n) Byrne… not bad. I’ve heard worse.

I’d thank Yoba if I could that Seb didn’t add Demetrius’ last name to his other one, like his mom did. That would be a mouthful. Sebastian Oliver Byrne-DuBois. It’s got a nice ring to it, but at what cost?

Fuck, I’m thinking about taking his last fucking name meanwhile I’m not even his girlfriend yet. He didn’t seem like he was asking me to be, a second ago. Well. At least not now . It’s nice to think about…

Hold on. What did he mean my bouquet isn’t ready? Has he actually been planning something?

“Wait,” I suspiciously squeak. “D’you have a bouquet for me?”

He nods, his pearly whites on full display. “I’d prefer to give it to you while you’re sober, you know.”

“Sounds like a deal, mishter,” I slur, pulling him in for some snogging.

__________________

The day after those shenanigans, I have very little memory of what happened at the bathhouse. My last cohesive thoughts, other than the vague feeling that I physically attached myself to Seb somehow, are of Sam rambling about band names.

The day after that , I show up to the lake in the mountains right before Sebastian arrives. We’ve been meeting up here more often, moreso on the days we can’t “properly” hang out – like, when I’m doing some extra farmwork, or spending time down in the mines.

Rather than a cigarette, Seb has an orange creamsicle sticking out of his mouth. As he approaches our spot, I notice another in his hand, and he tosses it over to me. We fill each other in on our days as we snack, genuine curiosity of what the other person did fueling the conversation from both ends.

Seb’s been working with a small startup to make a game, and he coded a really fun combat mechanic for it all afternoon. Gonna be some sorta life simulator, about a small town with a haunted chocolate shop. Bias towards Sebastian aside, I’m gonna play the shit outta that whenever they’re finished with it.

While he was working on that, I was pulling weeds and planting some fruit trees outside of the cave on my land. Figured it would be fitting to put fruit there, since the cave itself is filled with fruit bats. The rest of my day was spent fishing, in order to fulfill the errand posted on Pierre’s bulletin board. Haley wanted a super cucumber, claiming it was a “girl’s only” request and that we “know what it’s for.” Country girls make do, I guess.

Once Seb and I are caught up, the ambient sounds of summer wash over us. We’re sitting against each other, and against a tree, silently, keeping our eyes peeled for frogs within the ferns and moss that line the lake.

“Oh!” he whisper-yells, breaking the silence.

“Y’find one?!”

“No!” he smiles. “I just, I have something for you, and I was waiting for the right time to give it to you. I feel like now is good.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.” He plants a kiss on top of my head and jogs to his house.

I wait patiently, wondering what he could possibly want to give me. Usually, sharing food and cool gems is our way of gifting one another. Something about this feels different though.

When he’s back, he has something protected under his hoodie. He changed – he was in a pullover, but now, it’s a zip-up.

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant!” I gasp through giggles, eyes on the bulging object atop his stomach.

He rubs the designated area. “She’s a miracle,” he grins.

I study Seb’s face, eager to find out what’s really hidden under there.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I nod, curiosity coursing through my veins.

Cheeks puffed up and full of nerves, he exhales, before unzipping his sweatshirt to reveal a bouquet.

It’s not just made of foraged flowers, though, like the ones on display at Pierre’s. The blossoms are all fake – sculpted, or glass blown, maybe? – and contained within a baby blue, crushed velvet-covered vase.

The flowers, designed to resemble spider lilies, are a creamy, translucent, white, with a subtle prismatic sheen to them. Each piece is masterfully crafted and adorned with minerals: small frozen tears hanging off the stems like morning dew, spears of quartz sticking out to mimic decorative leaves, the tiniest little pearls I’ve ever seen sprinkled within the petals as pollen… I’ve never seen anything like it.

Completely at a loss for words, I carefully take the proposal from him. I’m in awe, not just at the gesture behind it, but at how absolutely perfect this thing is.

“I designed it myself. Commissioned a friend in the city to actually make it,” he explains, fidgeting with his sleeve.

“You’re shitting me,” I grin. “It’s so beautiful, holy shit.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he utters. “Uh… do you accept it?”

“Oh!” I was so lost in how stunning this is, in how dope it is that he had this handcrafted just for me, that I forgot he’s literally asking me to be his girlfriend right now. “Of course I do, dummy,” I chirp, shoving myself into his chest.

His heartbeat is fierce, just like my own.

45 notes · View notes

deareststars · 1 year

Text

update on the state of things!

i broke up with my bf :,) so my mind is fully open to reader-inserts. as a recap, here are the fandoms that i will write for:

- persona 5

- persona 4

- hunter x hunter

- fairy tail

- pokémon (no anthro)

- critical role c2 (i’m at ep132 at the moment!)

- detroit: become human

- percy jackson & the olympians

- avatar: the last airbender

- the legend of korra

- seven deadly sins

- haikyuu!!

- stardew valley

- life is strange (1, 2, before the storm)

- maplestory

& i will do some rpf (markiplier, crankgameplays, jacksepticeye, jschlatt, ted nivison, slimecicle)…

if your fandom didn’t show up here, then feel free to ask!! i hope you decide to request, i am… in desperate need of distractions at the moment,,, have a good day/night! <3

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #persona 4 #persona 4 golden #hunter x hunter #fairy tail #pokémon #critical role #mighty nein #detroit become human #percy jackon and the olympians #avatar the legend of korra #avatar the last airbender #x reader #reader insert #headcanon #one shot #request

5 notes · View notes

grandathenaeum-scenarios · 3 years

Text

bury me in sound

pairing(s): hawkeye x reader

post: 08

warnings: none

w/c: 1759

a/n: this scenario was requested before the rework, but it's my fav prompt ever so i redoin it!! hawkeye comforts reader who is scared of thunder

Hawkeye loved rain and storms. It reminded him of the ocean at night, with it's earthy scent, so much more serene and deep than during the day. Not to mention the powerful sky roars and sounds of downpour that produced a pleasant background noise to accompany his aimless thoughts. It was a certain comforting chaos to him.

You were all the more aware of how pitiful and small you must have seemed next to Hawkeye as you jumped out of your skin with every crash. Hawkeye himself was much like a storm in your eyes, steady, and confident in himself, unyielding to the forces of others. But, unlike oceans and storms, he was forgiving to the fearful, and very caring. Without hesitation, he had covered your little trembling form with his heavy cloak as soon as he wandered by, and sat beside you quietly. While your state was embarrassing, you found some comfort in his presence. It was more preferable than being trapped in the barracks with dozens of other knights who would watch and judge you.

Hawkeye hadn't spoken yet. Perhaps he was sparing you the humiliation of his concern, or maybe he just didn't know what to say to someone like you. Someone who was frightened of something that he reveled in. You took a chance to glance past the cloak at Hawkeye, and his expression told you everything there was to know. His head leaned back against the column you rested before, and his eyes were closed, savouring the rumbles of the storm, and the scent of petrichor. His thin lips widened into a faint smile as his fingers drummed against his shin to the rhythm of raindrops.

One of his eyes lazily opened, gazing right at you. You didn't look away that second— his starling gray eyes seemed to cast a spell on you for a moment, freezing you in place, but you managed to tear yourself away eventually. He sighed, content, as you stared forward, at Ereve's landscapes. A flash of lightning stretched it's gnarled fingers to a distant mountaintop, glowing with energy. Your gut wrenched as seconds passed, and your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. A violent crash, like a gunshot, pierced the air, and you jolted, shrinking away.

A warm sensation on your knee caused you to jump again, but when you looked up, Hawkeye hovered over you with a kind smile and crinkled eyes. His thumb swiped against your knee before he let go, and offered his hand for you to take. You hesitated and contemplated, simply staring at his hand for several moments. You weren't sure if you were ready to move around just yet. But, with a sniffle, you grasped his hand and allowed yourself to be hoisted up.

"I can't bear to leave you alone feeling like this," Hawkeye said, opening his arms to you. You felt encouraged by his sentiments, always leaving it up to you, whether or not to accept his touch. And so, you walked into the embrace, putting your forehead against his chest. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, and his palms rubbed your back muscles, very gently as to not make you feel trapped in the hold. Your arms remained limp by your sides, but you melted against Hawkeye's body. "Do you want to stay with me tonight?"

You nodded, and mumbled a mm-hmm against Hawkeye's pinstripe shirt. His chin bobbed once at the top of your head, before he leaned back and extended an arm in the direction he wanted to move in. You looked up at him with doeish eyes, glassy from the crying sesh you had earlier, and obliged. You felt the light touch of his hand at the small of your back, encouraging you as he trailed beside.

When you had arrived at his room, you awkwardly stood beside the door, pulling the navy cloak closer to you as Hawkeye hastily straightened his bed for you. It wasn't done perfectly or neat at all, but when he was finished, he turned to you with a grin and patted the mattress. "It's not pretty," he said, "but it's comfortable, at least."

He slipped his cloak from your shoulders as you meagerly crawled onto the bed, shifting your body under the down-filled comforter. It was comfortable indeed, and warm and safe feeling while the thunder outside remained rampant.

"Water, or anything?" Hawkeye asked, tugging the covers higher over your shoulders. You shook your head and nestled your cheek deeper into the soft pillow. His hand moved without thought towards your other cheek, which made you reel back slightly out of surprise, and Hawkeye immediately stopped the motion. He frowned apologetically, and began to pull back, but you quickly lunged forward and pushed your cheek against the shape of his palm. It was his turn to be startled, but he tenderly smiled and stroked your face.

It was inevitable that he would move, but it still saddened you when he did. It had almost felt like his hand was meant to cradle your face. Still, you watched as he took an unused pillow from the bed and tossed it down, before settling on the floor and lying on it. He sprawled out and crossed his arms behind his head, and his expression reminded you of earlier, when he was lost in his appreciation of the thunder orchestra. It was almost too dark to see now, other than the bright lightning that would rush past the windows and illuminate the room for a moment. Anxiety still took hold of you, but you had become more comfortable than you thought possible— although, you could imagine how much safer you would feel if Hawkeye had settled next to you instead.

It was an awkward thing to ask, but what's the worst thing he could say besides no? You swallowed your embarrassment and rubbed your face against the cotton pillow. "...Hawkeye?" you said in a quiet voice.

"Hmm?"

"Will you stay next to me? Up here?"

Hawkeye blinked a few times, processing what you had meant. And that little, shaky voice— how could he say no? "Yeah, okay," he said, lifting himself off the floor. You watched as he tossed the pillow back beside you, and walked to the bedside. You wiggled your body to the side, making room for Hawkeye, and you noticed a silhouette of his arm reaching for something on his dresser. A heavy chime softly echoed as he took something from the dresser, and he sat down, swinging his legs onto the bed. You kept a fair distance, as respectable as possible despite the fact you were lying in bed with a commander. Not that you would protest if he decided to come closer.

Hawkeye had been racking his brain for something that would bring comfort to you. As much pity as he felt, he couldn't help but think you were just adorable. He had never felt such a strong urge to hold and protect someone, and to lay kisses on their skin and whisper comforting words in their ear. But, Hawkeye was a respectful man. He wouldn't cross that line until he's absolutely sure the other party was okay with it. So, as the only thing he could think to do besides the above, he grabbed a large shell that sat on top of his dresser. It was the remains of a nautilus in it's swirled glory.

"I found this shell on the beach in Lith Harbor," Hawkeye began, shifting closer to you. You watched the faint silhouette of the round shell being turned in his large hands, and found your head bowing closer to his shoulder. "I used to live there, you know. My family is still there, and they send me letters basically every week. When I first started out, I thought it was kind of annoying, but now I'm really grateful. I haven't had time to visit for more than a day in a couple years, and I really miss them."

As you continued listening to Hawkeye recount memories with his family and Lith Harbor, you found yourself drowning out the storm with his voice. Even though he was talking lowly, it was still a confident voice that demanded attention. Your body jolted and twitched less and less, and you grew ever more tired.

Hawkeye was satisfied with his work to distract you from your phobia. Your body had shifted close, almost against his, when you resituated yourself several times. The storm hadn't let up nearly at all, yet your body was still, if not a little stiffened. When he moved to his side, you were staring at him with your exhausted eyes, pleading for sleep to take you away. He smiled, and hesitantly brought his hand to your face. Like earlier, you leaned into it, and even squirmed closer to him. His eyes lit up with an idea, and he brought the opening of the shell against your ear. Your eyes curiously widened.

"Sounds like the ocean, doesn't it? When it's calm, of course." You nodded— the shell enveloped you in the sound of waves. "Close your eyes. You've been to Lith Harbor, right? Can you picture the beach there?" Of course. Surely everybody had ended up at Lith Harbor somehow or another. You allowed your eyes to flutter shut, and the storms seemed like a distant memory. What you pictured now, was the sandy shore of Lith Harbor, and the calm water that lapped at your toes. The sand was coarse, like little tiny crystals that stuck to your skin. How could you describe the sound of the ocean, though? Was it a quiet roar? Or, perhaps a pur. In your imagination, Hawkeye sat beside you, leaning on his hands and digging his feet into the warm sand. You stretched your arms above your head, before placing them behind you to lean on them as Hawkeye did. Your fingers dug between Hawkeye's, and you clasped your hand with his.

Hawkeye pulled the shell back, and reached to place it on his dresser again. Your chest heaved with each breath, and light sighs escaped your lips. While dreaming, your fingers had intertwined themselves with Hawkeye's. He quietly chuckled to himself while watching your lips curve into a faint smile, and he curled around your form, grasping your hand tighter. He spared one last loving gaze at your serene expression, admiring the way your mouth parted slightly and your hair messily framed your face, before letting the pitter patter of raindrops lull him to sleep.

#maplestory #maplestoryfanfiction #maplestory hawkeye #maplestory hawkeye x reader #maplestory x reader #ya boi hawkeye

24 notes · View notes

collaborationfandom · 4 years

Text

Rules and Intro

MUST READDD

Hi guys! New blog cause I felt like it and I made my friend join too. We’re gonna say this straight off the bat that we’re inconsistent. Therefore, we’ll update at least once every two weeks. (for writing) but it’ll all depend cause we decided to be stupid and make this blog when we’re gonna start Junior yr in like 2 months but yeah (written in 2020 June). This is obv an imagine and scenario blog, Mod hawks will do imagines only and Mod Dazai will only do one-shots only. This blog is more of a stress reliever to get away from our studies. We’ll have a list of specific fandoms and characters we write for (favoritism cause we’re unfair like dat). anYWayS!

Things I’ll write for:

Fluff

Angst

Nsfw (writing this will be the reason why I don’t go to university)

Character x reader (Mod Hawks and Dazai)

Character x character (Mod Dazai)

Poly

Pretty much any sexuality

Things I will NOT write for:

Rape

Incest

That’s kinda it. I do write for yandere but not like the ones that’ll rip your skin off and wear it.

Requests:

Max 2 characters for imagines (Mod Hawks)

Max 1 characters for one-shots (Mod Dazai)

We are allowed to reject a request if it makes us uncomfortable.

Our limit is 10 requests every time. So if it goes over, requests will be closed until we finish it all.

Also when you request please try to be as specific as possible (especially if you’re requesting for scenarios/one-shots)

For e.g. “(Character name)’s reaction to first meeting s/o” rather than just “Fluff for (Character name)”.

Fandoms/Characters we write for (I’m sorry but we’re really picky cause we only write for those we know well enough to, I don’t wanna like half-ass it and screw something up):

If the name has H next to it only Mod Hawks will write for it (imagines) and if it has D next to it, only Mod Dazai will write for it (one-shot).

Bnha (Hawks is mah bby)

Todoroki Shouto

Midoriya Izuku

Bakugou Katsuki

Touy- AhEM Dabi

Hawks (Takami Keigo)

Uraraka Ochako

Yaoyorozu Momo

Rumi Usagiyama (D)

Kaminari Denki (D)

Tower of God (I’m a proud Korean)

25th Baam

Khun Agero Agnis

Hatz (H)

Endorossi (H)

Yuri Zahard

Zahard (In data personality for now)

Khun Eduan (In data personality for now)

White/Hoaquin (H)

Maplestory (Do ppl still know this game-) (H)

Phantom (H)

Evan (H)

Freed (H)

Mercedes (H)

Kinesis (H)

Luminous (H)

Bungou stray dogs

Osamu Dazai

Edogawa Ranpo

Nakahara Chuuya

Pokemon (Yes. You call it childish, I’ll find yo ass)

Raihan

Leon

Marnie

Hop

Gladion

Zelda botw (I love this series)

Link

Zelda

Urbosa

Revali (yes, I’m a furry. Deal with it)

Mipha

Fire emblem (So mAnY chOIcEs)

Claude

Dimitri

Edelgard

Felix

Sylvain

Hilda

Chrom

Kimetsu no Yaiba (tsUYOKU nARErUUuuUUUu)

Kamado Tanjiro

Kamado Nezuko (as a demon)

Uzui Tengen

Rengoku Kyojuro

Agamatsu Zenitsu

Hashibira Insouske

Kanroji Mitsuri

Kocho Shinobu

Iguro Obanai

Tomioka Giyuu

Tokito Muichiro

Yushiro

Akaza

Douma (Don’t request for Mod Dazai, cause he killed her waifu)

Yoriichi

Sabito

Owari no Seraph (so under apprieciated)

Ferid Bathory (D)

Crowley Eusford

Ichinose Guren

Hiragi Shinya

Hyakuya Yuichiro

Hyakuya Mikaela

Hiragi Shinoa

Haikyuu:

Hinata Shoyo

Kageyama Tobio

Oikawa Tooru

Iwaizumi Hajime

Sugawara Koushi

Tsukishima Kei

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kozume Kenma

Haiba Lev

Bokuto Koutarou

Akaashi Keiji

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Semi Eita

Shirabu Kenjiro

Miya Atsumu

Miya Osamu

Devil-man crybaby:

Akira both before and after (D)

Ryo (D)

Miki (D)

Suddenly Became a Princess One Day (someone better request for this):

Claude

Atanasia

Lucas

Ezekiel

Felix

Toilet-bound Hanako-kun

Amane Yugi (Hanako)

Amane Tsukasa

Minamoto Kou

Minamoto Teru

Yashiro Nene

Natsuhiko Yoga

Akane Aoi

God of high school (I have simped for Mori for 6 years-):

Mori (H)

Hui Mori (H)

Mira (H)

Daewhi (H)

Ilpyo (H)

Q (H)

R (H)

Soo Jin (H)

We’re sorry that this may be a little confusing but sometimes we just wanna stay within our comfort zone.

Lastly, this is a safe spot. Ya hear me? SAFE SPOT. A place where everyone comes to escape reality and just relieve stress so pls no hate. Also we’re sorry if we don’t upload a lot but we’re trying to pass high school and get to a good Uni ㅠㅠ

P.s. We might add more fandoms as we go.

33 notes · View notes

maplestory-scenarios · 7 years

Note

Kinesis x Reader. The reader is the daughter of the White Mage and Kinesis doesn't find out until later(I doubt this will be accepted) Thankyou!

[You thought wrong]

Kinesis

You had tried all you could to keep it from him. It was an embarrassing thing to tell people you were the daughter of the world’s white mage. The man who went crazy. For a while, you felt guilty.

After a few months into the relationship, you begin regretting not telling him sooner because Kinesis is shocked when you admit the truth. Going on to say, you didn’t want him to hate you because of your father.

“I’m sorry. I understand if you’re mad and if you don’t want to-”

“[Name], stop. Don’t even finish that sentence.”

Be prepared to be scooped into a tight hug. Because this boy is far too in love to let you go.

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner. Shocking? Yes. But not enough for me to leave you. Besides, it’s not your fault that you’re his daughter.”

Yuna and Jay are going to be told, they might be upset till Kinesis yells at them. They feel guilty.

Comforting kisses are exchanged. He’ll give your neck playful kisses, trying to get you to smile. It isn’t till he bites you that smiles appear.

The boy wants to keep you as far away from the white mage, doesn’t care if you’re his daughter or not. No one is touching his girl.

Is actually scared you’ll be taken away from him to the mapleworld.

#MSS #MS #Maplestory #Headcanon #Kinesis #kinesis x reader

21 notes · View notes

bread0nhead · 4 years

Text

Ding! 📸

@liltodo made a H/C about shiggy getting nudes... and I WAS HOOOOKED. I fucking LOVE people sending nudes. I encourage everyone to just take nudes of yourself and love every part of your beautiful body. And if you can’t love yourself, message me. I will light you up with love and body positivity. 🍭🍬

Anyways... I needed to make a reader and shiggy POV imagine for this. 📸

Shiggy x f!Reader

Warnings: language, masterbation

This will go back and forth between reader and shiggy POV, so I will indicate which POV we are reading by text color. Blue is shiggy, pink is reader. 🍆🍑

Like/Reblog please :D

Why the hell is this place so damn confusing? Is this a sick joke by the Shie Hassaikai, making me walk around like this? Really hate those guys....

Tomura walked around the Shie Hassaikai building for 10 minutes already, trying to find his destination. The halls were like a maze, there is no sense of direction with the lack or landmarks or windows. Grabbing his phone, he starts playing MapleStory Mobile to pass the time.

Ding!

A text message from his girlfriend appears distracting him from the game. Once his battle ended, he opens the text message and his breath hitches in his throat. His eyes fixate on all the pixels painting a picture of a beautiful woman wearing a lacy black bra, matching frilly garters and nearly see through thong. Tomura looks around the empty halls, making sure no one was around that could see his reaction. Tomura has never received such erotic pictures before. He downloads the photo to keep it to add to his spank bank.

8:09pm:

More.

Moments later, another photo is sent but this time the bra was removed only the arm of his lover covered her plump chest.

8:23:

Don’t be such a fucking tease. I am walking up and down these damn halls of the Shie Hassaikai building for the past 20 minutes being treated like a shitty lab rat. Show me those fucking tits.

This time the photo he receives is fully nude. Legs spread showing you pretty pussy and erect nipples. Only thing on was the garter belt around your waist hugging your thighs.

Jesus fucking Christ how did I get so lucky?

He looked around trying to find an cameras or witnesses. Once confirmed, he unzips his pants and pulls out his erect cock taking a photo. He was proud of himself, he knows how fucking big he is. Sending it over to you, with no context. Tomura leans up against a wall, taking a break from the stupid maze. Using this time to enjoy the erotic play from his love.

Laying fully nude on the bed you share with Tomura, your delicate fingers pinch and pull at your nipples. Your boyfriends unique ringtone pings. Eagerly opening his text, a full erect cock shines brightly before your eyes. You payed close detail to the thick veins going up his shaft. You love his length and girth, love how it slightly curves up poking at your sweet spot. Moving your free hand down below, you start to play with yourself. Lining your cellphone up to your sex, fingers circling your clit, you take a picture of the show- sending it to Tomura.

8:30:

I miss you~

Shiggy❤️ 8:31:

Record yourself moaning my name while touching that pretty pussy. I want to hear you.

You face heats up, not sure if it’s embarrassment or lust. Turning your camera setting to video, you begin to record. Fingers dip and curl into your cunt making loud wet sounds with each dive. You moan and pant, chanting Tomuras name full of lust. Needing more, you reach into your nightstand and grab your favorite dildo. The tip of the silicone cock is stroked on your wet lips, recording it all for him. Satisfied with the content, you send it over to your boyfriend excited for his reply. Tomuras FaceTime ringtone goes off, you heart starts racing.

What the hell? Isn’t he at the Yakuzas office?

Your thumb slides answering the call. As soon of you accept the call, you see through your screen Tomura stroking his hard cock while panting. You watch precum beading at the top of his cocks head. You can clearly see in the background unfamiliar scenery, assuming he’s still at the meeting place. The thought of him stroking himself to you in such a place makes your cunt leak, soaking the sheets under. Reaching your arm out, you angle the camera to capture your erotic face and still capturing the dildo your pounding into your hole. You increase your moaning and hushed screams.

“Fuuuck. Look what you do to me. Rubbing my hard cock just before a meeting. Anyone could walk in on me, you stupid bitch.”

Tomura stood in the halls of the Shie Hassaikai, still leading against a wall. His pants are dropped to his thighs, dick on full display. Tomura bites the end of his shirt, holding it up with his teeth. He’s sure to angle his camera so you can see his toned abs and thick cock.

“I want you baby, hurry home. I need you inside me! You’re the only one that can get me off...”

Picking up his speed, more turned on from your sexy words.

“That’s right, only me. No sex toy can compare to this. Once I’m out to this shit hole, I’m coming home to fill your hole. Fuck, baby...”

The sight of your cunt getting filled while listening to you moan his name, he’s getting so close to his release. He feels his balls tighten, his load build up.

“Ah, Y/N... I’m going to fucking cum. I want you to cum with me, I was to see it. Hear it.”

His movements go at incredible speeds. He can see Y/N’s cunt convulsing, watching her body squirm, and her mouth hang open. Eye contact is fixated on each other through the video call. With a loud moan, Tomura grips his dick while his cum splatters on the floor. He watches Y/N come undone, taking screen shots as she makes the bed completely wet.

“Did you just jizz all over Kai’s floor? He will kill your if he finds out.”

“Whatever. They should feel lucky to have this. Fuck em”

Tomura zips up his pants, adjusting himself.

“Alright, I’m going to meet with this bird freak now. I love you... oh, and you better still be naked when I get back.”

The meeting was annoying and long, all he could think about was the dick down when he gets back. Every time Kai said something to piss Tomura off, he just thought about Kai finding the pile of cum Tomura left on the floors. Talk about a power move...

/END

Taglist:

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x you #my hero academia shigaraki

252 notes · View notes

blog-name-idk · 1 year

Text

The Plot Twist | 02

Written by @blog-name-idk and @eserethriddle

Summary: Once upon a time you would have jumped at the chance to live the idol girlfriend life. The cameras, the action, the whirlwind romance. But what was once a dream has now become your worst nightmare, and you fully intend to fight the universe as it repeatedly conspires to set you up with your seven perfectly good soulmates from Bangtan Sonyeondan.

In which we punt Y/N into all the fanfiction tropes and you do your feral best to subvert the love story.

Because nani the fuck, you are The Plot Twist.

Pairing: OT7 X Fem!Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, crack, humor, idol!AU, light angst, slow burn, romantic comedy, just a fun silly old time

Rating: 18+

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Chapter 2: "Ahjussi, go back to MapleStory."

Life is truly unremarkable as a soulmate-less bachelorette.

Thankfully, none of the symptoms Junior Liaison Officer Choi Mijin mentioned to you have occurred – no bodily anomalies, no universal conspirations – and, on the way home from your parents’ place, you chide your anxious self for letting a thirty-minute phone call upturn the joyous revelries of turning twenty-five.

Though of course, even someone like you can see the grandeur behind it. The potential.

Soulmate. Not half of one’s heart, not ‘mi media naranja,’ but soulmate. Someone utmost, born from the same fabric of life – possibly indelicate, and not without flaws – but beautiful, blameless, and immaterially yours.

It’s great. Really great. But it’s daunting, too. There’s unprecedented pressure in that kind of ordeal, and… you like unremarkable. It’s safe. If you were ever going to be remarkable, it would be in ways you can directly control – like getting to the last floor of skull caverns or politely tearing incompetent coworkers to shreds when they challenge you.

But real life? Real personal relationships, with people that matter? That becomes a polynomial. There are too many variables outside of your ability to dictate, too much that could go wrong for you to spend too long mourning the absence of any soulmate symptoms. And anyway, your singularity isn’t your sob story – it’s your defense. Your most effective one.

You get back to your apartment at half past nine the following morning, heavy tupperwares of side dishes prepared by your mother hoisted in tow. At ease, you whistle a cheery tune as you get settled around your kitchenette, arranging each fully packed box amongst refrigerator shelves with care. You help yourself to an enticing pinch of putbaechu and decide to place its tupperware farther down the back.

Yes, that batch probably needed more time to ferment. After all, it’s impossible for napa cabbage kimchi to taste as sweet as cake.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

In his black-and-white checkered pajamas, Jeon Jungkook happily devours the two-tier caramel-frosted cake for breakfast. Furthermore, because he is a considerate maknae, he leaves the vegan, calorie-measured miniature cake for the rest of his hyungs to share when they wake.

They really don't appreciate him enough.

An early riser, also still in pajamas, Kim Seokjin spots him and tuts. “Jungkook, that isn’t healthy.” When Jungkook suddenly spits out the forkful he’d just shoved into his mouth, the eldest grimaces and admonishes, “Yah! I taught you better than that! That is disgusting behavior.”

“You know what’s disgusting?” Jungkook retorts with a revolted scowl, pushing the offensive dessert box far away from his person, lest it insult him yet again. “Surprise vegan cake. I’m going to sleep, hyung. Good night.”

“You mean ‘good morning.’” Seokjin corrects, reaching for the coffee pot with a sigh. “Brat.”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

During your afternoon gaming hours, your phone screen lights up with a notification. Your extended arm worms through sofa pillows to swipe and unlock it, and you instantly growl at the e-mail that greets you.

From: [email protected] Recipients: [email protected], [email protected] Subject: Executive Meeting on Tuesday

Dear Associates,

We hope this e-mail finds you well.

In preparation for the upcoming work week, we would like to advise your stations re: the exploratory meeting with CEO Son Hyunsuk scheduled for this Thursday at 15:00 (KST) on external company collaborations.

We appreciate your confirmation upon receipt of this notice and bid you a happy weekend.

Regards, Samsong Executive Scheduling

“Jesus Kim Christ, it is a Sunday. This should be illegal,” you swear, placing down the handheld gaming console on the couch next to you and getting up to refill your glass of water instead. Unfortunately, on your return from your hydration quest, you bang your ankle on the leg of the coffee table.

"MotherFUCKER!" you curse, collapsing onto your sofa and cradling your leg for a full minute. After recovering, you pick your console back up.

Idly hovering on the gaming screen, Tom Nook stares up at you with a deadpan glare. You’d think his heavy-lidded, judgmental look was a reaction to your use of offensive language, but you roll your eyes at the prospect.

Tom Nook, the island racoon? A landlord. He can judge all he wants. He’s as evil as company capitalists come.

With somehow even less of a conscience.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Ah one, ah two, ah five, six, seven, eight!”

Jung Hoseok snaps his fingers as he moves to the beat, flawlessly demonstrating the first few steps of the dance routine. Kim Taehyung watches him, crouched in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors like a religious student, except he’s also thinking, That is not how arithmetics works. This is why we are performers and not math teachers.

Hoseok seems to catch the faraway look in Taehyung’s expression, because his limbs freeze, dropping to a sudden stop, brown gaze slanting sharp and deadly. The other boys, sensing blood in the water, subtly shift away and try to look as focused as possible.

“What? Would you rather practice cartwheels with Jimin again?” Hoseok rumbles, hand on hip.

Yes…Taehyung laughs nervously. “No.”

Jimin shoots him a knowing look.

“You know,” Hoseok says, pointedly, brandishing his left leg, “I woke up with more bruises from you again. I couldn’t pair my tie-dye top with my denim shorts so now I’m stuck here practicing in my joggers with you instead of walking around Yongsan.”

You’re welcome, Yongsan, Taehyung thinks. Personally, he believes Hoseok’s fashion sense is something of a moving target.

Hit or miss. Miss a lot.

Oh well. Time to bring out the puppy eyes. “Hobi-hyung, can we start from the chorus instead?” He pouts, for cuteness excess.

“Fine!” the dance leader snaps, trying to mask the way the irritation ebbs out of his voice.

Taehyung suppresses a satisfied grin.

Yup. Works every time.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

By the middle of the work week, Min Yoongi has barely scraped by to meet a hard production deadline. Gears still turning in his mind, day lapses into night, unnoticed in the dark haven of his studio. He leisurely strums his guitar for an hour, puts it down, and reaches to compose an accompanying melody with the use of the nearest piano.

Eventually, Yoongi turns off all his music equipment. In his mind, there’s an echo of a tune he can’t shake away. He can barely hear it himself – soft, feminine, slumberous – and he lays back with his eyes closed to savor the ghost of it instead.

He wants to commit it to memory. It’s something he’s never heard before.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Miles away, you feel pleasantly adrift. It's been months since you moved in, and you hadn’t been aware that your neighbors played music. In fact, the walls between apartment units are assuredly thick enough for all kinds of noises to filter through – a blessing when you get sniped by yet another rune bear.

You're also not really one to enjoy ambient noise outside of your control, but to your surprise, you don't mind this music at all.

It’s nice.

You tuck your knees to your chest and rest your body against the headboard of your bed, closing your eyes to listen. But it seems that the mysterious musician has gone to sleep for the night. Instead, the old made-up lullaby your mother used to sing to you when you were a child filters into your brain unbidden, and you smile at the memory. Within minutes, lightly humming to yourself, you let the notes overtake your thoughts and fall sound asleep.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Tonight, your dream plays like an old movie. Most of your dreams are like this, but here you feel like you exist in snippets – that you’re a passenger in someone else's skin. Like you’re standing at a different height, taller than reality. The colors seem to cling to the edges of your vision like haloed light through fogged glass when you move, leaving you half-sentient, fighting to see through the haze of your subconscious mind. Like you’re not you.

You wonder where you are. Who.

I want to do more, you hear yourself think in your dream. I want to be more.

You see your feet take you away from backrooms with white walls. Your heart’s near bursting and telling you how much of this it missed, telling you you're finally back where you belong.

This: before your very eyes, an ocean of twinkling violet.

There’s an overwhelming rush of love in your chest as a chant fills the air, expanding throughout your body until it's spilling from your eyes. You can feel the skin of your lips stretch into a smile.

Everything feels like a dream come true.

“I’m your hope!” you tell the roaring crowd.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jung Hoseok bolts upright at exactly 6:15 AM.

Letting out a groan, he drops his face into his hands and croaks out, “What the fuck.”

“You okay, hyung?” Jungkook asks, getting ready to turn in for bed himself. It’s his fourth nocturnal day in a row.

Hoseok usually admonishes Jungkook for this kind of misbehavior, but right now he can’t muster enough indignation. It’s just–

“I had a dream. I was a MapleStory livestreamer and – I was really into it. But really? In this economy?” Hoseok continues to complain in his rough morning voice, “I don’t even game.”

Jungkook sniggers, hogging the blankets to himself. “That’s true. Maybe you traded dreams with Jin-hyung?”

Hoseok rubs the spot between his brows. Frowns. It's possible, Jin does love MapleStory. Though lately he's been on a weird arcade game kick despite Namjoon scolding him for being careless in public.

Appeased, he finds the spark to be a proper hyung to their precious maknae. “Don’t sleep at this time tomorrow, JK. If I catch you again, you’re dead at practice. Capisce?”

Jungkook nods a hundred times and buries himself under the sheets. Hobi might lack the broadness and mustache of the stereotypical Italian mobster, but he manages to exude a menacing aura all the same.

“Capeesh, hyung.”

Because he is not a MapleStory livestreamer, Jung Hoseok climbs out of bed at 6:30 in the morning. Because he has a bunch of back-breaking schedules to get to. It’s another Thursday.

No matter what, he’s going to survive. In this economy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Thursday meetings are like Monday meetings but from the nine circles of hell combined.

You shuffle into the arcade with a slump in your shoulders but a fire in your heart. The last time you had a day this bad at work was the last time you had come here, to let out your inner rage on tiny dots and cute little ghosts.

You hadn't even realized it was an arcade at first – you had just found your feet moving automatically towards the storefront, as if inexplicably drawn. And as soon as you set foot inside, even before the odd smell of metal tokens that lingers even in arcades with balance cards, an immediate sense of peace washed over you. That this place was safe. That you could enter and put your everyday life and problems on pause for a short, sweet amount of time.

That feeling has remained with each visit, only growing stronger with your increasing familiarity with both the arcade and the elderly owner Lee-ssi, a friendly man who reminds you of your own grandfather.

You're sure that the worn down sight of you in your white blouse and black pencil skirt amidst the backdrop of the rowdy neon arcade is strange, but you figure if your colleagues can release their frustrations by throwing down in public establishments, so can you. In your own way.

The first and last time you went out with your coworkers, the guy from marketing tried to get you to come home with him. So you made up a liver disease to avoid being expected to drink with them again, and are now letting out your frustrations in a much healthier way: against some cocky kid who calls themselves "the Pacman God."

They are pretty good, you will admit.

Just not as good as you.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

There are a few things that never fail to brighten Lee Seungwon's day. Getting to see the half-toothed smile on his baby grandson's face, making his son-in-law uncomfortable when his daughter isn't around, and –

"WHO. DID. THIS?!" Kim Seokjin demands, furiously pointing at the arcade machine standing innocently in the corner, taunting him.

Resisting the urge to laugh, Seungwon only sighs and crosses his arms, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Which is truly a front, because despite all the annoyances that come with running an arcade, he truly loves his job. He loves providing a space where kids can be kids, and the rare adult can relive the worry-free days of their youth.

"We respect the privacy of our clients, sir," he says politely, lips twitching at Seokjin's dramatic shriek of outrage. Seungwon has especially been looking forward to this particular adult's reaction upon finding his high score beaten by one of the newer regulars.

"Don't you remember who I am?!" the handsome man questions, and the storekeeper looks him up and down, once again unimpressed. Seokjin remembers he's ensconced in a bright pink hoodie and pink sweatpants, then gives a mental shrug.

Whatever. He looks good in everything.

"Yes. ‘Jin the Pacman God.’ Currently… number two in that game," the shopkeeper sneers as he insults the most handsome man in Korea – possibly the world. "Second to GoDsLaYeR_69." he adds, for good measure.

Seokjin gapes at the audacity of this mortal, his gamer rage only further activated by the offensive words that come out of Seungwon’s mouth next.

"Maybe you should go back," the shopkeeper suggests, inspecting his cuticles, "to MapleStory." After a pause, he puts the final nail in the coffin currently housing Seokjin's pride: "Ahjussi."

The Kim Seokjin, being called ahjussi by a man who looks older than Yoongi's soul?

That's it. That's fucking it.

With gurgling, unintelligible squawks of indignation, Seokjin pulls out his wallet and slaps his arcade card on the counter, followed by his black credit card.

"Load this up with 2,000,000W. Right now."

Lee Seungwon hides a smirk as he obeys.

It's just too easy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It had been a rare occasion in which all of the boys’ evenings (and following mornings) had been free simultaneously, and Hoseok decided to celebrate this in a way so rarely possible for them to do together anymore: to find a noraebang and get absolutely wasted.

"How did I let you guys persuade me into doing this again?" Namjoon asks, blinking in a mixture of joy and consternation at the freshly inked, slightly inflamed 7 on his skin. He flexes the side of his leg and watches the clear bandage wrinkle and smooth at the motion.

"Friendship!" Taehyung announces happily, eyes alight as he sways ever so slightly in his chair. Jungkook and Jimin are fully knocked out on each of Taehyung’s shoulders, their demonic sides hidden by the angelic expressions on their sleeping faces.

"No," Yoongi corrects, revealing a bottle of Suntory whisky from god-knows-where. "This."

"Ah, yes!” Eyes bright with satisfaction, Namjoon’s dimples deepen, and Seokjin laughs at how childish Namjoon looks in his glee as he receives his prize and cradles it to his chest with utmost and deliberate regard. With his vision blurred from all of the alcohol, it almost looks like it's disappearing into the leader's ample bosom. “Sunny, my frieeeend!"

Yoongi nods at him, ten times too much, then glances at Taehyung as he narrowly avoids falling off his chair for the umpteenth time. “The infants are fading,” he mutters, “Let’s get them home.”

Twenty minutes later, Hoseok emerges behind a curtain with a brand new tattoo, ready to show it off and receive compliments for being brave and only screaming once.

Except he’s all alone in the waiting room.

He waits a single beat before looking around in confusion.

“Guys?”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You stumble through your doorway, confused by your body's decision to stop functioning properly. It had begun at the arcade, your normal precision and flawless execution apparently deciding to take its own mental health day and leaving you with slowing reflexes and sloppy reactions.

Finally, you decided to leave after realizing you'd been growling at the machine for the better part of an hour.

Well actually, Lee-ssi had kindly given you a bottle of water and suggested you take a break because you were scaring the kids. You decided to go home lest your happy place become tainted by the miasma of your god-slaying alter ego.

On the train, you nodded off and almost missed your stop – something that never happens. You tripped on your way off the train, and you had initially blamed it on being drowsy, but the trek from the station to your apartment did nothing to dispel your clumsiness.

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought you had gone drinking with your coworkers and were now stumbling home in a drunken haze. But you've been at the arcade since you left work, so that's impossible.

Maybe you're getting sick. That would explain the fogginess in your head, the sluggishness of your limbs.

Feeling under the weather, you spend the night in the dark of your bedroom. But then intense, prickling feelings bug you all over. Instead of the rest you hoped for, the hours are filled with tossing and turning, needle-points on your skin that fall just shy of being painful.

When you wake up, you find your skin tattooed seven different times with the number seven in seven different places.

Um.

What the fuck?

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Masterlist | Next

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 x reader #bts soulmate au #soulmate au #eserethriddle #reveri #fruit party 🥭🍒

303 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 years

Text

not allowed, interlude | 20220629

drabble: ‘not allowed’ series; fluff some wholesome BS lol pairing(s): est. relationship yoongi x reader x jungkook

Guess who's favorite noona is addicted to BTS Island: In The SEOM? tbh I wrote this because the game was under maintenance and I was bored lmao

"Says here that you hate grass."

"I don't hate grass."

"Then why are did you say, ugh?"

Skeptical and slightly peeved dark brown orbs peered at your phone screen. “Hm.” A small frown. “I don’t have any particular feelings towards grass, though.”

“Maybe you made a disapproving face at grass on set before, a staff saw you and thought it was so funny that they added to the game.”

Min Yoongi made his best disapproving face at you. He would never admit it but sweet as SUGA was good at those funny facial expressions that he insisted weren’t only for laughs. You still snickered though. Oops. “How am I supposed to remember every expression I make?”

“Maybe don’t look so disdainfully at grass then.”

“When was the last time you touched grass?” he grumbled in his deep voice, going right back to his phone and vegetative position.

“Look at you, using the younguns’ lingo!”

Those cat-like eyes narrowed into slits. He decided not to grace you with a response to that. He didn’t have one. Probably because he had no idea what you meant, but asking what the lingo was would surely out himself. Therefore, the genius producer meow meow did the clever, strategic move of changing the subject. He did not, however, miss your triumphant grin (that earned you an extra disapproving eye squint). He chose to ignore it.

Yoongi hummed and ticked his eyebrow to your phone. “Do you like the OST?” he asked offhandedly.

“Of course! It reminds me of MapleStory. I always play with the sound on,” you chirped, flopping down next to him on the bed as he grunted in mock discomfort. “I usually have the sound off because most background music is too happy for me.”

Yoongi gave you one of his small smiles that he did when he agreed but still wanted to question. “Too happy?”

“Yeah, sometimes I’m not cheerful, okay, okay? I like this better. It’s soothing and, when you really listen to it, it’s quite layered and intricate. There’s even a sound in there that reminds me of cicadas. Reminiscent of your usual style, too. Ah, but, you should be careful. Lots of game companies are going to ask to collaborate with you now!”

He laughed softly and, from the tone and the bashfulness, you could see he was very pleased. It was both what he wanted to hear and that he could see that you meant it. When you enjoyed things, you always had a lot to say. “Couldn’t be too cheerful since you might be annoyed after being unable to complete a level – wait, what level are you on?!”

Your phone flipped as you tried to squirm away from Yoongi’s wide eyes once he finally registered all the information on your screen, looking quite like his BTS Island: In The SEOM game avatar. So far you had been incredibly impressed by the game developers’ attention to detail, from the avatar expressions and movements, the accurate dialogue, even the aesthetic color choices. Oh, and can’t forget those spoony-looking hands and little nubbins for legs that hung in the air when they laid down. Clearly a lot of research and efforts had been put into it. You would be ready to discuss all of it if it wasn’t for the fact that you were sputtering, trying to explain yourself as the front door opened, and you heard heavy things dropping.

“Hey, hey, have you downloaded the game, hyung, I set up my island and everything, let me show you and – oh, noona! You’re here already!”

You grinned at Jeon Jungkook and his wild, slightly messy workout hair. Wow, those big sparkly brown eyes really were the biggest peepers of all. How long had the game designers been staring into the Golden Maknae’s eyes? Couldn’t blame them, though. He looked a bit like a black fabric mountain in his loose clothes as he bounced over, clutching his phone to load up the colorful opening screen.

“I’m about level seventy, what about–?”

Yoongi grunted.

Aw shit.

“She’s over level two hundred.”

“You’re over level WHAT?” Jungkook’s booming volume filled up the entire bedroom. The Golden Maknae had some powerful lungs on him. Needed them for those high notes. “How?! I thought you had a job!”

“I do have a job, excuse you–”

“What you have is an addiction.”

Jungkook had now taken your phone. “You have so many stars! You haven’t even done the story!”

“Er…”

“Why is your island so naked? You need some decorations.”

“Decorations cost money.”

“I have lots of decorations, look.”

“Yes, but you also have money.”

“I can give you money.”

“You are not being my suga daddy in In The SEOM. Besides, I want to kick your ass without money. Ohohoho, I knew you would spend more time decorating. Aww, Hoseok looks so cute in those sunglasses you put him in!”

“That’s not allowed, noona! You said you’re good at puzzle games!”

“This isn’t a competition, you two. This is a healing game…”

“Maybe you should try harder, Jungkookie~!” You gasped dramatically as you explored his account on his phone. “Your future wife is in your club? Did you peel apart perilla leaves for her? Is that how it happened? ‘Today a perilla leaf, tomorrow marriage.’ Gosh, I told you that was dangerous!”

“Noona, you!”

At this point Yoongi had given up on his bed, getting up with a sigh as you and Jungkook began to roll around laughing and bantering about each other’s islands. Later, Yoongi would tell you that it looked both like a fight and as if you were trying to strip reach other, so nothing to worry about. Per usual. He watched the debacle with fond amusement.

“You used to be quiet,” Yoongi chuckled.

“Well, you used to be available,” you called accusingly from the bed with your legs around Jungkook’s waist as he pinned your arms to your sides. “Then you discovered Pilates and started practicing English.”

“You could practice English with me.”

“I know plenty of English,” you wheezed, yanking up the black shirt. Jungkook yelped as your bare thighs touched his skin and you rolled him back over to be on top, only to be lifted far too easily. Damnnit! You let out your own yelp. “Such as–”

“If you sing Butter one more time, I’m getting a gag.”

“You don’t own a gag, hyung?” Jungkook questioned with a confused expression as you flailed about in the air like a caught (super) tuna.

“Why would I own a gag?” Yoongi sighed exasperatedly, eyes and mouth thinned into lines. Actually, there was a slight upturn to his lips. Hm, quite like a cat.

“I dunno, you kinda seem like you’d own a gag – ah! No bitey!”

“What are you reading online, hah…?”

“It’s under maintenance…”

“Aw, man, what now?”

Those big peepers looked your way.

“You looking a lil sus…”

“Can you two speak like normal human beings? What are you doing to my shirt – oi!”

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

#yoonkook x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #yoonkook x you #bts idol au #jungkook x you #yoongi x you #jeon jungkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi x you

126 notes · View notes

luffles424 · 4 years

Text

Pay Attention

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: smut, established relationship, PWP

☼ Count: 2.1K

☼ Warnings: masturbation (f), teasing, slight overstimulation, fingering, pussy slapping, spanking, dom!Jin, bratty reader, clothed sex (sorta, Jin’s fully dressed but you’re not), riding, multiple orgasms, creampie, praise kink, cockwarming

☼ Summary: You’ve seen the TikTok challenge going around, people walking up to their SOs naked while the other is gaming and seeing what their reaction it. Lucky for you, your boyfriend just happens to be an avid gamer and so you decide to try the challenge out for yourself.

☼ a/n: I kept seeing people talk about this in the context of doing it to Jungkook (which is valid) but Jin is just as much of a gamer and he deserves his time too. I can’t believe I wrote something short finally lmao

Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

You peek into the office, seeing Jin exactly where you expected him, hunched over the computer and muttering to himself while playing MapleStory. It’s exactly where you want him too. You’d seen the challenge going around online, people walking up to their gaming SOs while naked and filming the response. While you can’t film Jin’s response, you can still have fun with the idea.

You slip into the room, crossing the short distance to where your boyfriend sits oblivious. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, lips brushing his ear.

“What’re you up to, Jinnie?” You coo.

His hand abandons the mouse briefly to squeeze your arm, but he remains wholly focused on the screen before him. “Since we have the week off, figured I’d finally get some gaming hours in.”

You pout when he doesn’t turn to look at you so you release him to lean against the desk beside him, where he’ll have no choice but to see your current state of undress. You run your fingers lightly up his arm, hoping to draw just enough attention that he’ll look over at you.

Your touch succeeds, he gives you a quick glance and smile before double taking, lips parting. His second gaze linger only moments longer than the first, much to your dismay, before he’s turned back to the computer, an amused twist to his lips as he speaks. “Doing some laundry, princess?”

You glower at him, why was he so unphased by this? All the videos you’d seen had way better reactions. If it weren’t for the smirk on his face, you’d think Jin hadn’t even noticed your current state. “No. I’m not.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No? Could’ve fooled me.”

You shove at his shoulder, causing him to snicker as he doesn’t budge an inch. Stupid jerk. “You suck.” You mutter as you push yourself off his desk, moving to sulk on the couch behind him, his continued laughter following you.

You sink into the cushions, watching your boyfriend continue his game like his girlfriend isn’t sitting naked right behind him. That’s the last time you ever listen to the internet for something to do. This just proved to be disappointing. And now you’re cold. You wonder what else you could do to gain his attention when an idea hits you, something that would definitely warm you up as well.

You smirk, shifting your position slightly and letting your hands trail up your stomach to your breasts. You hum, giving them a squeeze before your fingers find your nipples and pinch, causing you to gasp.

You see Jin pause at the noise, head tilted just slightly but then he resumes playing once again. You lick your lips, nothing small will do. You know how stubborn he is and how into his game he can get. You’re going to just have to go straight to the big guns. You part your legs, propping one up on the edge of the couch, making sure you’re spread out nicely for Jin to see when he turns around because what you’re about to do is definitely going to catch his attention. One hand slides down your body, fingers ghosting over your folds. Your mouth drops open at the sensation, it’s been awhile since you’ve taken the time to play with yourself. Jin usually far too eager to lend a helpful hand, not that you’re complaining, his fingers are vastly superior to yours. Your fingers delve between your folds, running the length of your slit to spread your slick.

You circle your clit and let out a soft whimper, eyes trained on Jin’s form. You see his back straighten at the noise and attention makes you grow bolder. You against your clit, rubbing circles and doing nothing to hold back your moans. You can see Jin’s jaw work for a moment, before he finally caves and glances over his shoulder at you.

His eyes widen in shock when he sees you sprawled out on the couch, fingers playing with your pussy. You don’t know what he thought he’d see when he turned around, but you drink in the hungry look that takes over the shock.

Your fingers move, slipping one into your heat and you let out a groan. Jin turns fully towards you, game completely abandoned now. You smirk in victory, letting another finger slip inside you. He licks his lips, scooting closer in his chair, hand reaching out for your knee when he’s close enough.

You shake it off. “Ah, ah. None of that. Pay attention, baby. You wanted to play your game so badly, then you get to just sit there and watch me get off.”

He gapes at you. “You can’t be serious.”

You drop your leg to spread yourself further, eyes lidded as you hold Jin’s gaze. “Completely.” You giggle, pumping your fingers and letting your head fall back.

His eyes move back and forth between your face and watching the way your fingers disappear inside you. He licks his lips again, eyes holding an edge of anger in them.

“Baby, please,” he begs, voice tight.

You shake your head, other hand slipping down to join the first so you can circle your clit while you fuck yourself with your fingers. Your eyes slip shut as you feel the coil in your belly tightening, the thrill of Jin being forced to watch and not touch only serves to increase your pleasure. You pump your fingers faster, moans and whimpers falling from your lips. If the drag of your fingers against your walls didn’t feel so good, you’d open your eyes just to watch the way Jin struggles to hold himself back. Your back bows, a gasp leaving your lips as your orgasm rushes through you.

You’re so caught up in keeping your fingers going, drawing your pleasure out for as long as possible that you miss Jin moving until his hands land with a light slap against your thighs before his grip firm. You open your eyes, chastising words on the tip of your tongue when his grip tightens to the point of bruising and you gasp. His whole demeanor has shifted, the amusement is gone, gaze hard as he stares you down.

“Oh, no princess. You had your fun. But it’s time you remembered who’s in charge here,” he growls.

You gulp as he makes quick work of removing your fingers from your pussy, surprising you when he simply replaces them with his. Whining, you squirm in oversensitivity, but his grip on your thigh keeps you from moving. He smirks, fingers working slowly, watching the way you shudder with every press of his fingers against your g-spot.

His fingers work slowly, teasingly slow. “You got yourself so wet and ready for me, princess,” he coos. “Such a cute girl, trying to act like you were in charge.” His smile turns slightly condescending, but he also seems amused at what you tried to do. The flickering emotions make it incredibly hard to gage what he’s going to do to you as punishment.

“I-” Your retort, apology, words are cut off by the sudden removal of his fingers, quickly followed by a sharp sting as he slaps your pussy. You gasp as the pain melts away to a pleasant burn, pussy clenching as you blink up at Jin.

He tilts his head. “I don’t think I asked for a response. I think your little game spoke volumes, princess.”

He slaps your pussy again and you whine, causing him to deliver another smack, slick dripping from you as you squirm, unsure if you want more or for it to stop. His fingers find your throbbing pussy, rubbing soothingly for a moment before his fingers swipe through the mess. He holds the glistening digits up, tsking as he inspects them. His hand comes down on your pussy once more.

“My, you certainly got yourself worked up teasing me, didn’t you princess?”

“‘M sorry,” you murmur, blinking up at him with wide, wet eyes.

He looks you over for a moment before he’s sitting back in his chair, tugging his cock out of his sweats. He strokes his cock slowly, your eyes glued to the way his fingers just barely overlap when wrapped around his girth. You wanted him inside you already, wanted the stretch that you love so much. “Come show me how sorry you are, princess. Ride me.”

You scramble off the couch, climbing into his lap and he chuckles at your eagerness, hand finding your hip to help guide you down onto his cock. You swear as he bottoms out, all the times you’ve fucked, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to that first stretch of him. The slight burn that borders on almost too much before you just feel so perfectly full. You tangle your hands in his hair to pull him into a messy kiss as you begin to move your hips.

He groans against your lips. “God princess, always so tight and eager for me, hm? Fuck, you’re so wet.”

You nod, lips not leaving his, letting your movements be answer enough. His hands find your ass, squeezing as he helps you move. His fingers dig into your ass as you clench around him, the way his cock drags against your walls leaves you breathless. One hand leaves your ass and you’re so absorbed in the way Jin fills you that you don’t realize what’s about to happen until his hand descends against your ass, leaving the skin stinging in his wake. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he spanks you again.

“I’m sorry, princess. But I don’t think just giving you what you want is teaching you a very good lesson.” He halts your movement and you squirm in his lap, attempting to regain some of your pleasure. You cry out when his hand lands on your ass again, harder this time.

You try to blink away the tears that spring to your eyes. He shushes you, hand rubbing softly at the smarting skin. He grabs your thighs just under your ass, helping resume your movements.

“That’s it. Such a good girl. See, that wasn’t so bad, hm? It could’ve been much worse. You deserved a worse punishment for your little game. But I’m feeling generous tonight, princess.” He murmurs, eyes trailing over your face as it contorts with pleasure.

“Jinnie, please.” You beg, feeling pleasure rising again, the love seeping into his gaze as he watches making you feel warm all over.

“Need to cum, princess? Once not enough for you? Such a greedy girl.”

You shake your head. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

His lips trail along your jaw to nip at your neck as his hand slips between the two of you and his fingers find your clit. “Cum for me then, princess. Milk my cock like a good girl.”

He circles your clit a handful of times before you’re cumming with a gasp of his name. His fingers slow before pulling away so he can grab both of your hips to fuck up into you and chase his own release. His head falls back against his chair, a low groan leaving him as you feel his cock throb in your still spasming pussy as he cums, filling you with his release.

You slump against him, face buried in his neck. This wasn’t exactly how you planned to happen, but you got what you wanted in the end. You feel the rumble of laughter in his chest and then his hands are sliding up to rub soothingly at your back. You melt against him, knowing you should get up and clean up, maybe start talking about dinner plans. You know if you don’t do it now, Jin will get too absorbed in something and forget. You resolve to get up just as soon as you stop feeling so boneless.

You feel Jin moving the chair, but pay it no mind until his hands leave your back and you hear his game start up again. You attempt to sit up, but one of his hands is quick to push you back into the position you had been in with your head tucked into his shoulder. You make an indignant noise, attempting to sit up again but he holds you firmly against him.

“No, no, princess. You wanted my cock, you’ve got it. Be good for me while I play, yeah?” He presses a kiss to the side of your head, pausing to whisper in your ear. “If you’re good for me, then I’ll give you a reward.”

You squirm slightly at his words, his cock still hard in you. His hand leaves your head and you hear the game pick up once more. A devious smirk pulls at your lips, looks like your fun is just beginning.

#magicshopnet #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #thekimlinenet #hyunglinenetwork #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts smut #jin smut #seokjin smut #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic

736 notes · View notes